The Forgotten Brother
by PatronusChronicles
Summary: Everyone knows of the famous Harry Potter, in the wizard and muggle world alike. But as with all great stories, everyone gets it wrong. In Greyson Potter's case, they forget to talk about Harry's slightly older brother. This is the real story of what really happened during their years at Hogswarts and with the Dursleys.
1. Chapter 1

Everyone had gotten the story wrong, even that muggle born witch Rowling. Though Greyson had to admit that she was the one that wrote it best out of all the biographers and publicists and whoever else wanted to write about the amazing boy who lived.

She at least remembered the Weasleys and Harry's other friends. The other people made Harry appear to have accomplished it all on his own or completely took out the parts where he had his connection with Voldemort.

Of course, that made Rowling look so bad that no one would even glance at her work in the wizard world. So instead she embellished some of it to be even grander than real life and sold to muggles around the world and it became a near instant success.

But of course, she failed to mention Greyson, Harry's older brother by a little less than a year (ten months to be exact) but _everyone_ failed to remember that.

If it wasn't for him, Harry probably wouldn't have been able to survive growing up in the Dursleys. Though it wasn't _as _terrible as Rowling made it out to be. Hell, when they were in they're sixth year they sorta became 'frenemies' with Dudley.

It was at least enough of a decent relationship they'd stop by around the holidays, though it had to be at Dudley's house. He was still scared of magic from that whole dementor incident, not that either of the Potter brothers blamed him. It would have been terrifying for any wizard, much less a magic-fearing muggle. Fortunately, Dudley tolerated the harmless fun and magic when the Potters came over with their children, and, in Harry's case, godchild.

Greyson was glad that all the fame hadn't really changed his brother. He was still the same Harry he remembered, clever and decently humble. Of course, it helped that he had Greyson and Ginny to keep him grounded. Ron, on the other hand, enjoyed hero worshipping his best friend from time to time.

But Greyson could still remember the day everything started to change for them, Dudley's 11th birthday.

* * *

"Come on," Greyson said, shaking Harry awake. "We have to go make breakfast for the lards and giraffe neck." Instead of getting up, Harry just curled in closer to his side. He looked so peaceful. Maybe he was having a dream about their real parents? Greyson was, until he realized it was morning from the way Dudley and Uncle Vernon thudded down the stairs. Harry was always the heavier sleeper of the two.

Soon enough Aunt Petunia was banging on the door of their matchbox sized closet bedroom. "Boys," she shrieked. "Get up. You have food to make. And it needs to be perfect for Duddy's birthday."

Harry groaned and grabbed one of their cousin's old hand-me down shirts for himself and one for Greyson. The giant shirts swallowed them and left them with a big drooping neck and sleeves that had to be pushed back to their elbows to fit. The pants weren't any better, they had to tighten the yards of fabric extra around their waist with an old used belt. Fortunately, they were brought to the store for shoes that fit so they got that new once they grew out of them.

The boys were practically the same size, small and lithe, while Dudley was more of a bowling ball kind of size and Uncle Vernon was a beach ball. (Of course, Greyson only told Harry that when Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia couldn't hear. Though it never ceased to put a small on Harry's face when he cracked jokes about the unfortunate lot they called family.) They both had the same messy unkempt black hair. The only difference is Greyson had brown eyes, while Harry had green and wore glasses. That and the cool lightning scar Harry had on his forehead from the car crash, as they were told by Aunt Petunia.

Of course, Aunt Petunia never gave them the real answer to anything. At least that's what Greyson thought. Harry believed her on the whole car crash story as to what happened to their parents and Harry's scar, while Greyson had the theory they Vernon drilled their brains out or something. With the hate his uncle held for their deceased parents, he wouldn't have doubted them plotting their murder and at the very least having a hand in it.

They wouldn't have even been sure which of them was older if Petunia hadn't written down their birthdates for record keeping. If that hadn't been done, though would have assumed they were the exact same age, especially since they were in the same grade. Greyson was older by exactly ten months, born on Halloween. So of course, he cracked jokes about having magic powers to aggravate the Dursleys, despite being in trouble near all the time. But it was well worth it to see his brother smile and the Dursleys ready to pull their hair out from his antics.

Once they were dressed in their old clothes, they made their way to the kitchen where Dudley was slowly counting out his pile of presents. "...34...35...36..." Then Dudley frowned as he tried to remember something. Honestly, Dudley's thinking face always made Greyson think he needed a laxative or something. "I had 39 last year. That's three less than last year."

"At least you know he can do math," Greyson piped up, just to be rewarded with a solid whack from Uncle Vernon's newspaper and a smile from Harry as Aunt Petunia pleaded with Dudley about how expensive his gifts were and point out that Aunt Marge had given Dudley one, making it a more substantial thirty seven gifts over the thirty six. Of course Aunt Petunia had to do the addition part for Dudley, who took too long to figure it out.

"Tyke just wants his proper share, just like his father," Uncle Vernon said cheerfully as his glare fell away from Greyson.

"I think he had more than his proper share," Greyson told Harry lowly.

"Well, I think I know where ours went," Harry replied and the two boys gave a silent laugh.

"Quit your snickering," Aunt Petunia snapped. "And don't burn the bacon, it's Duddy-kins special day." The phone started to ring and caused Aunt Petunia to scurry off to the foyer.

"Well, don't worry Dudley, we'll get you some more at the zoo today," Uncle Vernon told Dudley with a smile and sipped his mug of tea. That satisfied Dudley who began tearing into his gifts, all of which were ridiculously expensive and would be destroyed in a few weeks or be left in the room of forgotten presents.

The room of forgotten presents was actually Dudley's second bedroom. It even had another bed in there but all it served a purpose for was all the things that Dudley didn't want anymore. Greyson had tinkered with the idea of taking some of the items and restoring them for Harry for his birthday or Christmas but didn't think it would be taken well by Dudley who trashed his old toys but hated the thought of someone else having them.

"Vernon," Aunt Petunia said coming in as Greyson and Harry served up breakfast. "That was Mrs. Figg, she can't watch the boys today. She broke her leg. And no one else can watch them."

"Well, we certainly can't leave them home alone," Vernon said. Greyson saw as Dudley's face fell and became red like an angry tomato.

"But it's my birthday!" he yelled. "And I want to go to the zoo."

The brothers shared a look. Dudley went to all these extravagant places every year for his birthday while their birthdays always went by unnoticed. This year it was to be the zoo with his best friend, Piers, joining him. Though normally when Piers was around, Greyson and Harry were trying not to be turned into punching bags.

Vernon was quiet and had a stern look. "Call Mrs. Polkiss, see if she can bring Piers to the zoo," Uncle Vernon said. He looked at Greyson and Harry. "Now listen here you two," the boys straightened up a little, "We're taking you with us because we can't trust you not to make a mess of things without us here to constantly watch you. If I see any funny business or even one toe out of line, you'll be weeding the garden for a week and scrubbing the garage clean. You understand me?"

"Yes, sir," they said together.

"But I don't want them to go," Dudley wailed. "They're ruining my birthday."

"They're going and that's final," Uncle Vernon said. Greyson smiled as he quickly finished his breakfast along with Harry. It was a pleasant thing to see their cousin being told no.

Soon enough they were all in the car with Piers mom bringing him to the zoo. "We're actually going," Greyson whispered excitedly to Harry.

"I know," Harry said smiling. Dudley was just sitting there, angry and pouting as they made their way to the zoo.

"Get off the road!" Uncle Vernon yelled loudly at the motorcyclists as he slammed on his horn and shook his fist. "Bloody hoodlums and their motorcycles..."

"I had a dream about a motorcycle," Harry spoke up and Greyson turned his attention to his brother. "It was flying..."

The sound of nonsense coming out of Harry's mouth caused Uncle Vernon to slam his breaks and had Greyson getting choked out by his seatbelt.

Uncle Vernon turned around in his seat. "MOTORCYCLES DO NOT FLY!" Uncle Vernon yelled, getting spittle in Greyson and Harry's face.

"I know," Harry protested. "It was just a dream." However, it had already worsened Uncle Vernon's bad mood and improved Dudley's.

"Don't worry Harry," Greyson piped up, grinning. "At least you didn't dream about turning Dudley into a pig. Though it wouldn't be too hard. Just needs the tail and nose." He ducked just in time to miss the first of Dudley's fists, but not the second, which got him squarely in the shoulder and the full force of Uncle Vernon's wrath, but he knew that he would receive his punishment in the quiet of the Dursley's home. It was worth it though. It would make Harry's punishment less, if he even got one at all.

Soon enough they were at the zoo and Aunt Petunia chatted with Piers' mom about how terrible it was that they didn't have a sitter for those horrid Potter boys. Though his mother left after assuring Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia it was fine, as she had some shopping she had to take care of in town anyway.

"Thanks," Harry said as they made their way through to the ticket lines.

Greyson gave him a crooked grin. "Not a problem," he said. "Besides, what kind of big brother would I be if I didn't try to make them remember how horrid they are?"

Harry chuckled as they made their way through the zoo. "So, tell me more of this flying motorcycle dream," Greyson said as they watched animals just out of earshot of the Dursleys.

Harry shook his head. "I don't remember much about it," he confessed. "But it was a really good dream." He was quiet for a moment. "You know... sometimes when I think really hard about my scar... I think I see bright flashes of green and my head feels like it's splitting open... but that doesn't make sense because I got it in a car crash." And then added, "The green light, I mean."

"Well maybe we can get a police report or go to the library and research it," Greyson offered. "But, don't worry about that, instead look at Piers and Dudley seeing their family for the first time." He threw his hand out towards the gorilla exhibit. Harry laughed, enjoying the joke.

"Fair enough," Harry agreed, letting go of his worries and stress for the time being. The day was pretty good. They were even given lemon ice pops because some nice lady noticed that the Dursleys didn't even bother getting them ice cream when they bought Piers and Dudley giant ice cream cones.

Well, at least it was good until they got to the reptile house. That was when things went... bad.

"Move!" Dudley demanded of the snake. He tapped the glass angrily.

"Maybe it's dead," Piers suggested, seeing as it was laying there sleeping.

"It's just a dumb snake," Dudley huffed. "Look! They're feeding the Komono!" And then they both ran off to see the carnage. With the area clear, Greyson and Harry walked up to look at it.

"Wow! It's huge," Greyson said. "It could wrap itself twice around Uncle Vernon's car and turn it into a rubbish can if it wanted." Harry just nodded and stared at the snake. Greyson watched as the snake then opened its eyes and looked at his brother. The snake then brought himself eye level with his younger brother and _winked._ "What the..." Greyson said but noticed his brother wasn't even paying attention to him, but was still very intent on the snake and even gave a wink back.

Soon enough they started hissing to each other. Suddenly Piers was right behind them yelling in their ears. "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T _BELIEVE _WHAT IT'S DOING!" Soon enough, Harry and Greyson were pushed out of the way and knocked into the hard concrete floor. As Greyson was rubbing his elbows, Dudley and Piers were shoving their faces up against the mirror.

"Too bad we can't lock them up like the snake," Greyson said. And as quick as he said it, the glass vanished. Both brothers stared in wide eyed horror at that. Dudley and Piers fell into the exhibit, where the snake snapped at them playfully before slithering out. Dudley and Piers tried to get out of the exhibit only to find themselves trapped in.

The snake had even stopped to talk to his brother more. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were so distraught over their precious Dudey-kins being trapped on his special birthday weekend.

Soon enough, Piers and Dudley had calmed down enough to give their version of what happened with the snake. "I swear, it tried biting my leg off!" Dudley said as he shoved spoonfuls of ice cream into his mouth, as that was the one thing Dudley said would make his birthday better after his near death experience.

"Well it was going to wrap itself around me and squeeze me to death!" Piers said, trying to outdo Dudley in who had almost been harmed by the snake.

"It was going to swallow me whole!" Dudley said. Greyson held back from saying it would have choked to death trying to eat his little toe. He didn't want any attention brought back towards him and Harry. They were lucky enough Uncle Vernon forgot about what happened in the car with the whole flying motorcycle thing.

"Well... well, I saw it talking to Harry," Piers said, causing a pit to form at the bottom of Greyson's stomach. "And Harry, you were talking to it too, weren't you?"

The look on Uncle Vernon's face was even more horrible and angry than they had ever seen before. "Well, Greyson even wanted us to be locked up like the snake," Dudley added, almost gleefully at the thought of the boys both being punished for ruining his birthday.

Uncle Vernon's face looked purple. He didn't say another word as they hurried home. The moment they got in the house, Uncle Vernon slammed the door. "Go-cupboard now-no meals," he muttered and the boys rushed to their bed and closed the door to avoid angering Uncle Vernon even more.

Harry laid there, staring at the ceiling and Greyson sat there. He let out a sigh and couldn't believe their luck. Though this always happened. Weird things always happened when they were around. But this was by far the worst thing to happen to them. Normally it was things like Harry's hair growing out overnight after Aunt Petunia gave them haircuts and left Harry's bangs just over his scar.

Or when they were running away from Dudley and Piers and their gang and ended up on top of the school when they went to jump up over the trash cans to hide behind them.

"Maybe one day, we'll have some distant relative who'll come and take us far away," Harry said. "Like those weird people who bow and wave to us."

"Maybe," Greyson agreed. "But let's nap and we'll go get some food later." He moved to lay down and cuddled with his brother to get some extra warmth in their tiny cold cupboard. Though they didn't speak about the fact that they'd been wishing that same wish every year, only for it to never happen.

They were stuck with the Dursleys and didn't have anyone but each other. They didn't have friends because Dudley's gang made sure of it. They didn't even have a memory of their parents or any idea of who they were, except for whatever the Dursleys told Aunt Marge who despised them and their dead parents. There wasn't even a smiling picture they could look at... just the name Potter to link them to their forgotten past.


	2. Chapter 2

Greyson sat on the edge of the bed while him and Harry played cards. "I've been wonderin'," he started out. "What were you and that snake saying to each other anyway?"

Harry looked up at him. "What do you mean?" he asked. "You were there."

"Honestly, it sounded like a whole bunch of hissing," Greyson told him. "Kinda like this." He then proceeded to do his best imitation of snake hissing for his brother.

"I wasn't hissing," Harry said. "I asked him if he got stupid people like Dudley and Piers harrassing him alot and if he'd even been to Brazil. He hadn't because he was born in the zoo, but he said he was going to visit there when he left."

"Well, it sounded like it," Greyson told him and then sighed. "Think we'll be let out anytime soon?"

Harry shook his head. "Doubt it. I've never seen Uncle Vernon so angry," he said. "He looked like one of those purple candies Dudley loves, you know the ones."

"Those Parma Violets," Greyson said nodding.

"Yeah, those," Harry said as he tossed down a card in their game. Maybe later they'd play soldier with the little plastic ones they had scraped up spare change to buy from one of the little convenience stores. That's how they had anything that seemed to be a toy.

"You two can come out from the cupboard now," Uncle Vernon said one morning during. It was already the summer holidays and would soon be Harry's eleventh birthday, three weeks and four days to be exact. Greyson had been saving up whatever change he could to buy Harry some of those penny sweets. That was what they usually bought each other, though one year Harry did buy Greyson a slice of cake. He would have Mrs. Figg purchase it since the Dursleys would never buy them anything when they asked, she did all their present shopping for them. Usually she'd add in a gift for them from herself. It was usually something small like a chocolate bar or a small bag of their favorite candy. They always knew which gift was from her because it smelled extra strong of boiled cabbage.

They didn't say anything about being graciously unpunished for not even doing anything, but they accepted it as a blessing not to be cooped up in their little cupboard room anymore.

They decided to spend the day as far from Dudley and his gang of big dumb friends and enjoy fresh air and sunshine. They ended up at the small park near the house.

"What do you think Stonewall will be like?" Greyson asked as they stared up, watching the clouds go by.

"Well, if Dudley goes to Smeltings, it'd be alot less painful," Harry said. "But first they'd have to accept zoo animals." They both laughed.

"Maybe it's really a circus," Greyson said smiling. "They'll whip him to teach him how to do arithmetic right." They spent their morning thinking of ways Smeltings would teach Dudley how to not be an apeish gorilla before heading back to the Dursleys' for lunch.

Soon enough Dudley had been officially accepted into Smeltings' and Greyson and Harry were to spend the day at Mrs. Figg's while Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to shop for his Smeltings' uniform.

"How are you boys?" she asked as they were dropped off at her door. Aunt Petunia was already heading for the interstate by the time Mrs. Figg had opened it. She never liked staying to chat, she particularly hated the smell of cabbage.

"We're alright," Greyson said as he and Harry moved into the living room of Mrs. Figgs home. "How's your leg by the way?"

"Better, tripped on one of my cats," she said as she closed the door and hobbled over to the couch. "Harry, your birthday is coming up isn't it?"

"It is," Harry said, nodding.

"A week and a day," Greyson said proudly. "And my little brother will be eleven."

"Then I'll be your equal," Harry grinned. Mrs. Figg smiled and shuffled to the kitchen on her crutches.

"Why don't we celebrate your birthday a little early, then?" she suggested as she pulled out a plate covered by a metal dome. The boys eagerly brought themselves over to the dining table. If Greyson had to be honest with himself, he felt like Mrs. Figg was like a great aunt to them. She was far nicer to them than the Dursleys ever were.

She opened the dome to reveal a simple homemade chocolate cake. "Happy birthday," she said as she pulled out two gift bags. Harry smiled and grabbed the bigger one. He pulled out the tissue and saw it filled with penny sweets.

"Figured it'd fatten you up," Greyson grinned. Harry laughed and opened the other to see a chocolate bar.

"Thanks, Mrs. Figg," he told her.

"Not a problem," she smiled as she sliced the cake and gave them each a decent slice before letting them leave to watch TV and munch on Harry's bag of candy.

That evening Dudley paraded around in his new Smelting uniform, which had horrible bright orange knickers. Greyson leaned in close to Harry and whispered, "Good thing the whole uniform isn't bright orange or else they'd think he was a life raft." Harry had to hide his laughter to avoid being hit with the smelting stick.

"Oh, my little Dudley Duddykins is growing up," Aunt Petunia wailed as she held Dudley tight. Both boys thought it was ridiculously over the top, but it didn't stop their amusement. Then again, Aunt Petunia had always been over the top when it came to Dudley.

"What's that awful stench?" Greyson asked the next morning as they went in the kitchen for breakfast.

"Your uniforms for Stonewall," she said as Harry peeked in the sink to look at the tub of gray dishwater with what looked like dirty rags floating in it.

"I didn't realize they had to be so wet," Harry said, frowning.

"Don't be stupid," Aunt Petunia snapped. Even Greyson had to give his brother a look at that. He wasn't sure if Harry had been serious or sarcastic over that one. "I'm dying them grey so they'll be like everyone else's."

"I think we'll look more like we're wearing elephant skin than clothes," Greyson said as they sat down to eat their breakfast. Soon enough Dudley and Uncle Vernon joined them at the dining table. He unfolded his newspaper and sipped his morning tea like he did every morning. The clink of the mail slot had his attention though. "Dudley, go get the mail," he gruffed.

"Make one of them go do it," Dudley said.

"Harry, go get the mail," he said as he read his paper.

"Make Dudley," Harry protested, which of course didn't go in their favor. Harry got the pleasure of dodging the smelting stick as he rushed off to go to get the mail.

When he returned he handed Uncle Vernon a couple of items and then sat next to his brother staring at a thick yellow envelope.

To Misters G. and H. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

"What's that?" Greyson asked, looking at the bright emerald green writing.

"I... I don't know," Harry said, just as awestruck as Greyson. He turned it over and they both stared at the red wax seal.

"Dad! Harry's got something," Dudley said. Greyson looked up in time to Uncle Vernon snatch it from his brothers hands.

"Hey! Give it back," Harry said, showing more courage than Greyson could remember. "That's our letter."

He watched as all the color drained from their uncle's face. "P-P-Petunia!"

"What's it say?" Dudley demanded as he smacked his father with the smelting stick. Aunt Petunia rushed over and took the letter from Uncle Vernon. "Let me read!"

"Give us our letter," Greyson said, wanting to know what was on it. Besides, who knew that they lived under the stairs?

"Out! All of you out!" Uncle Vernon yelled.

"I'm not leaving without the letter," Harry said and Greyson nodded in agreeance. Dudley just kept smacking and poking Uncle Vernon demanding to read the letter. In the end, Uncle Vernon managed to carry all three of them out by the scruffs of their necks and tossed them out of the kitchen before slamming the door behind them. The three wrestled around to listen from the keyhole, with Dudley being the victor and Harry's glasses being broken in half on the nose again. Greyson and Harry placed their ears to the gap at the bottom of the door.

They listened as Uncle Vernon talked about stamping that stuff out of them and how there were spies. Who would be spying on the Dursleys? Or rather who would want to? Though from how they were talking, it sounded like Aunt Petunia was familiar with the letter's writer.

Soon enough, Uncle Vernon left for work and Greyson and Harry spent the day trying to figure out who on earth was writing to them. Of course they came up with nothing as they had no family, friends, or anyone really, save for each other and occasionally Mrs. Figg. But Harry had disagreed with Greyson about Mrs. Figg writing the letter since she didn't know they lived under the stairs.

That evening when Uncle Vernon came home from work, he did something the boys never thought they'd see, he squeezed himself into their little closet.

"Where's the letter?" Harry instantly demanded.

"Burned," Uncle Vernon replied. "But, I've given it some thought, and well this cupboard is awfully cramped for you boys. Why don't you move into Dudley's other bedroom?" With that he left the boys to gather their armful of possessions and settled down in Dudley's room.

"I'd much rather the letter," Harry said glumly.

"Well, on the bright side, Dudley is having a massive tantrum now that we're in here," Greyson said. They could hear the yelling from downstairs.

"I need that room!" Dudley yelled. "I don't want them in there! Kick them out!" Soon they heard his fake wailing and the sound of the smelting stick hitting anything it could. Harry just nodded and stretched out on the bed.

The next morning Uncle Vernon was nice to them, in his own way, and made Dudley go get the mail despite all his whining. "There's another one!" he yelled and began reading out the address, this time to their new bedroom. Uncle Vernon hurriedly grabbed it before any of the boys could snatch it and open it. He then shredded the letter in front of them. "There," he said, satisfied.

"There has to be a way we can get one of those letters," Harry said pacing the room.

"What are you going to do?" Greyson asked as he sat on the bed playing cards with himself. "Sneak down before anyone else and greet the postman?" Harry looked at him and smiled and Greyson knew he'd given his brother a terribly good idea.

Early the next morning, Greyson was awoken to the sound of Uncle Vernon yelling. He rushed downstairs to see their uncle in a sleeping bag right by the mail slot. "Go make yourself useful and make me a cup of tea," he snapped at Harry. When the mail came there were now two letters and they fell right onto Uncle Vernon's lap and were instantly shredded. Uncle Vernon called into work that day and worked on nailing the mail slot closed.

As the days passed, the letter delivery became even more absurd. Stuffed in the crack around the door, appearing in the two dozen eggs that they received that morning. And each day Uncle Vernon seemed more desperate to get the letters away from the boys; nailing closed all the gaps and calling to complain to the milk delivery for the eggs, just to name a couple.

Sunday was by far the worst. Uncle Vernon smiled happily as he smeared marmalade on his newspaper. Crazy and happy. "Sunday is the best," he told them cheerfully. "You know why?" He didn't even wait for them to answer. "Because there's no post on Sunday." Just as he spoke, the fireplace erupted with letters flying everywhere. Harry jumped up and down trying to catch one while everytime Greyson grabbed one off the ground, Uncle Vernon was snatching it from his hand. Soon he grabbed the brothers by their waists and tossed them out with Dudley and Aunt Petunia running out, hands covering their head to avoid all the letters.

When Uncle Vernon finally emerged, he only had half a mustache left with bits of it still in his hands. "Go pack a bag and be back down in ten minutes. No questions," he said and they all left to go do as he said.

Soon enough they were all in the car, heading to who knows where. They'd drive and drive and drive in one direction before turning off in another and the process was done until it was well late into the night. Dudley was howling because he had never gone so long without anything, especially food and computer games.

They ended up at a musty hotel. Harry and Greyson shared one of the small twin beds, while Dudley got the other in the room. Not that they really minded, it made them warmer anyway.

During their breakfast of cold tin tomatoes and toast Dudley was pouting. "I hope we go somewhere with a TV," he sniffled. "It's Monday and I want to watch the Great Humberto tonight." Greyson blinked. Monday? That meant tomorrow was Harry's birthday. How could he have forgotten? Well, with all the madness, it made sense, but still. He always made sure to remember Harry's birthday.

While they were eating a man came over. "'Scuse me, but is one of you Misters Potter?" he asked, showing another envelope with emerald green writing. Uncle Vernon stood up.

"I'll take care of them," he said, following the man to the front desk.

"Who on earth wants to write to you that badly?" Dudley asked, looking at them.

After breakfast, they were herded into the car and Uncle Vernon continued to drive. They drove all day again until they finally stopped. Uncle Vernon left them in the car and returned gleefully with a long, narrow package. However he wouldn't answer any of their questions as he drove them to the dock.

"Alright, out, out," he said as he finally turned off the car. The wind was blowing wildly. "Found us a place for the night." Off in the distance Greyson could see what Uncle Vernon was referring to. Looked like a little rickety shack, ready to tumble off into the ocean at any moment as it was perched on the top of a random rocky island.

"There's going to be a big storm tonight," he added as he clapped his hands together and brought them to the dock. "And this gentleman has even loaned us his boat." The boat was an old row boat, owned by an old man missing half his teeth.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked out loud to no one in particular. And Greyson was in agreeance with Dudley a hundred and ten percent. Uncle Vernon was definitely certifiably insane now.

"Don't worry Dudley, my boy," Uncle Vernon said. "I didn't forget to grab us some rations." The five of them huddled into the boat as Uncle Vernon rowed them out to sea. Maybe they were going to be murdered like their parents? Definitely seemed like a likely event with how Uncle Vernon was acting.

Fortunately they just enjoyed their dinner of a bag of chips and a banana before going off to bed. Aunt Petunia gave Dudley the couch accompanied with a couple of moldy blankets though Greyson didn't trust that couch to be particularly clean so he was glad to have given it up.

Him and Harry went off to find a corner of the shack that wasn't so drafty. However, neither of them could sleep like Dudley had managed to. So instead, Greyson traced out a birthday cake in the dust on the floor and watched Dudley's glowing watch as it slowly ticked closer to his brother's birthday.

The moment it turned midnight, Greyson smiled at him. "Make a wish," he said. Harry nodded and blew away the dust cake, just as the door to the little shack fell with a bang.


	3. Chapter 3

Both brothers stared wide-eyed at the giant man in the doorway. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia hurried in from the bedroom and Dudley sat up half asleep and confused.

Greyson noticed the rifle Uncle Vernon had in his arms. "Don't come any closer!" Uncle Vernon yelled to the giant beast of a man. "I'm warning you! Come any closer, and I'll shoot." The man walked into the shack, his head just brushing the ceiling, and easily took the gun from Uncle Vernon.

"Pipe down Dursley," he said and threw the rifle out to sea before replacing the door. "Now, that's better." He pushed Dudley aside from the couch before taking a seat. He set the tattered umbrella that was in his hand down by the couch.

"Now, there's the birthday boy," the giant said smiling at Harry. "An' Greyson. My, you two have grown. Last time I seen ye' yer both were tiny, not but a baby. Grayson, you was two and Harry, just a year." He moved around and pulled out a box from his coat. "Thought I'd bring ye a little somethin'."

Harry took the box, though it was slightly smooshed, and Greyson moved closer to see what he was given and it was a chocolate birthday cake with 'Happy Birthday Harry' written on it. That small gesture was something that made Greyson like Hagrid even more than the way he just disregarded Uncle Vernon. Harry was the first to find his voice out of the two. "Excuse me, but who are you exactly?" he asked, setting the cake down.

"Sorry 'bout that, names Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds of Hogwarts," he said. "Bit cold in here." Hagrid made his way over to the fireplace of the pitiful shack and did something Greyson couldn't see, but suddenly the shack was filled with a cheerful fire, warming the room instantly.

"What's Hogwarts?" Greyson asked after finding his voice.

"What's Hogwarts?" Hagrid repeated. "Blimey, how could ye not know 'bout Hogwarts? It's where yer' parents learned it all."

"They are not going!" Uncle Vernon said. Greyson had forgotten he had even been there. "We're not sending them."

"Sending us where?" Harry asked. There seemed to be more questions than answers.

"And learned what?" Greyson asked as well.

"You lot didn't tell 'em?" Hagrid demanded. "You didn't tell them anything?" Uncle Vernon suddenly quieted.

"Tell us what?" Greyson asked this time.

"Blimey," Hagrid said and ran a hand through his massive beard. "Yer parents were great, one of the greatest I reckon." Hagrid took a deep breath and looked at the two of them. "But, yer wizards."

"Wi- what?" Greyson said trying to comprehend what Hagrid just said.

Harry frowned. "Hagrid, I'm sorry, but there is no way either of us could be wizards. We're just... us."

"Oh? So you never made anything just happen?" he asked. "Never when you were scared or mad?"

"...the snake," Greyson said looking at Harry and could see his brother thinking the same as him. He watched as Harry slowly broke into a smile, and that in turn made him smile. They both turned back to Hagrid, whose bushy beard was in a smile and his beetle black eyes shone with pride at them.

Greyson's smile fell. "Wait, you knew," he said and turned to look at his Aunt and Uncle. "You knew we were wizards, didn't you?"

"Of course we knew," Aunt Petunia said, her face forming a sneer. "How could we not know with my sister being what she was? My parents were so proud of having a _witch_ in the family. Lily this and Lily that. Coming home every summer with frog spawn in her pockets and turning teacups into rats. But I saw her for what she really was, a freak.

"Then when she graduated she went and married that Potter boy and had you two." Aunt Petunia took a breath and stared at them with hate in her eyes. "Then to make matters worse, she went and got herself blown up, leaving us with the two of you."

"Blown up! You told me they died in a car crash," Harry yelled, though Greyson wasn't so surprised that it hadn't been a car crash at all. However, being blown up did surprise him.

"Lily and James die in a car crash?" Hagrid roared. "Like somethin' like that would have killed Lily and James Potter."

"Hagrid," Greyson said quietly. "How... how did they die?"

Hagrid let out a sigh. "Don't think I should be the one te tell ye this but someone has te," he said. "See 'bout ten years ago, there was this wizard, bad as bad can be. Worse than any other. He started gatherin' followers and you didn't know who ye could trust. Well, one night... October 31st, he went and killed yer mum and dad. But here's the strange thing, when he went te kill ye, Harry. He just couldn't."

"Why?" Greyson asked.

"Dunno, and that's the strange thing because when You-Know-Who decided to kill someone, that was it," Hagrid said. "But destroyed the house. It was rubble when I found it. I was there that night, I was sent to fetch you two. But Harry, yer famous fer it."

"Famous?" Harry parroted. "Famous for what?"

"Fer being the boy who lived," Hagrid said. "You survived You-Know-You." Greyson stared at his brother. Harry? Famous? He couldn't be. "Not only that, but after that, he vanished. No one knows what happened to him. Some say he died, but I don't think he was human enough for that. Some say he's out there still gathering his strength and biding his time." His little brother was some famous wizard for defeating an evil one, when he was only a year? Greyson shook his head. He couldn't see it.

"But, enough dark stuff," Hagrid said before reaching into one of his many coat pockets. "I think ye two have been waitin' long enough fer this." He held out that long awaited letter. Harry grabbed it first and held as Greyson undid the seal.

He pulled it out and they both stared as it told them they had been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. "Owl?" Harry said as he read the letter faster than Greyson. "What do they mean they need our owl?"

"Oh, reminds me," Hagrid said as he wrote a quick note before handing it to a ruffled looking owl from one of his pockets.

"I already told you, they aren't going!" Uncle Vernon yelled. "They are going to Stonewall and are going to be grateful for it."

"Like a muggle like ye is gonna stop 'em," Hagrid said. "They've been on the list since they've been born, and they're going with the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever seen, Albus Dumbledore."

"I'M NOT GOING TO PAY FOR THEM TO LEARN SOME MAGIC TRICKS FROM SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL," Uncle Vernon bellowed.

"Never insult Albus Dumbledore in front of me," Hagrid said lowly.

Hagrid narrowed his eyes and spotted Dudley in the corner. Before Greyson could blink, Hagrid pointed his tattered umbrella at Dudley, who had a handful of cake in his hand, and suddenly there was a corkscrew pig tail poking through his pajama pants.

Aunt Petunia screamed in horror while Dudley held on tight to his bottom as if it was going to fall off. Hagrid chuckled as they ran off to the bedroom leaving Harry and Greyson alone with Hagrid.

"Well, best get some rest before we get going ter-morrow," Hagrid said brightly. He shrugged off his coat and handed it to the boys, it nearly swallowed them both. They dragged it off, close to the fire before cuddling close and letting sleep take them whole.


	4. Chapter 4

"It was just a dream," Greyson heard his brother say quietly in his ear. "Just a dream."

"Quiet Harry," Greyson muttered. "I'm tryin' to sleep." He curled in closer to his brother to block out the light.

"When I wake up," Harry continued. "I'll be back in my cupboard."

"We don't have a cupboard, we have a room," Greyson reminded him grumpily. "Now quit." However, his brother was not at all compliant as he sat up and caused Greyson to fall onto the floor, his heading hitting it with a thud.

"Greyson! Get up!" his brother said excitedly. "It wasn't a dream!" Greyson sat up rubbing his head.

"What wasn't?" he asked blinking as the room was brighter now that he was awake.

"Hogwarts, Hagrid, all of it!" Harry said, going over to the sleeping giant. "Hagrid get up!" Harry said, shaking the great man awake. "C'mon."

Hagrid let out a loud groan as he sat himself up. "Alri', alri', I'm up," he said and he stretched out. "Han' me my coat now Greyson." Greyson nodded and dragged the large thing to him. They watched as Hagrid made up the fire again and began pulling out a pack of large sausages and a tea kettle out of his pocket.

Soon enough they had a hot breakfast before them. Hagrid had even been wise enough to give them plates and cutlery too. While they ate, Greyson thought about the events from the night before. "Hagrid, what was that thing you called Uncle Vernon?" he asked, not quite remembering it. "A niggle?"

Hagrid let out a bark of laughter. "A niggle," he repeated shaking his head with a large grin on his face. "Never have I heard such a thing." After Hagrid collected himself he looked at Greyson. "Muggle, it's what we call non magic folks."

Greyson nodded. Harry was the next one to ask a question as Greyson had a mouthful of sausage. "Who was he?" Harry asked. "The one who, ya know, killed our parents."

Hagrid did not seem pleased with that question and had a hard time drinking his tea. Instead of answering he reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a flask. He took a swig from it before he wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand. He took a deep breath. "Listen to me boys," he said looking at both of them. "I don't want te repeat this if I don't have te." Once he was sure he had their undivided attention, save for them munching on sausage or sipping on tea. "He was the worst of the lot. Went te Hogwarts to, ya know, but he was in Slytherin. Should have known he would've been a bad seed. All the worst came from there. But his name was... Vol- V-" Hagrid sighed looking defeated.

"Maybe you could spell it out?" Greyson suggested helpfully.

Hagrid shook his head. "Can't spell," he said. "Fine... it's Voldemort." Hagrid looked around as if Voldemort was going to appear from the shadows. "But don't go around sayin' it. No one likes hearin' it." They both nodded and finished breakfast so that they could get on to get their school supplies.

Harry read off the list of things they needed. "Where would we go and get wands and cauldrons?" Greyson asked frowning. "Or even a pet owl? In London of all places?"

"You'll see," Hagrid promised as they made their way through London. "You just have te know where te look." They paused outside of a place called The Leaky Cauldron. They made their way inside and the dimly lit pub.

"Hagrid!" the bartender said loudly over the other patron's. "Havin' yer usual?"

"Not today Tom," Hagrid said and placed his hands on the brothers' shoulders. "On important Hogwarts business. Taking the Potter boys to get their supplies." Everyone froze at the name Potter. Greyson felt uncomfortable with all this attention directed at them.

"My word," one of the people said. "Harry Potter, he's returned." His brother blinked at that and Greyson stepped back as people began to swarm in, especially once they saw Harry's scar.

Everyone was shaking his hand and saying how great it was to meet him and welcoming him back. Greyson however, was blissfully ignored. While he didn't mind getting the brunt of the attention when it came to the Dursleys, this was a different matter altogether. He had never seen so many people notice him without sneers or laughter. Normally, he was ignored and fortunately once they figured which of them was Harry, it remained that way.

"See Harry?" Hagrid said as they finally exited the pub. "Yer famous." They approached a brick wall and Greyson stared at it confused.

"Hagrid... it's a dead end," Greyson said.

Hagrid just smiled before counting out some bricks and then tapping them with his umbrella. "Welcome to Diagon Alley," Hagrid said.

"Woah," both boys said as they stared wide-eyed in amazement. Witches and wizards were hustling and bustling along. There was so much going on with people hollering about the price of goat spleen (15 knuts) and about how great their cauldrons were.

Him and Harry both saw the broom in the window, surrounded by a bunch of kids talking about the cool new racing broom, the Nimbus 2000. "That looks so cool," Greyson said and then stopped. "Hagrid, how are we going to pay for our school stuff?"

Harry stopped too. "Uncle Vernon said he wouldn't pay for it either," his brother added.

"Well, that's why we're goin' te Gringotts," Hagrid said. "Ye didn't think your parents left ya with nothin' did ya?" Greyson just looked down in response. That sure was how it felt.

"Come on now," Hagrid said and lifted Greyson's chin up. "Cheer up."

"I just... I never really thought much of them," he said. "After all, all we've known is each other and the Dursleys." Hagrid wrapped him in a large hug and Greyson never felt more love or protection from someone who wasn't his brother in his whole life.

"It'll be alrigh'," Hagrid said before straightening up. "Come on now, best get to Gringotts so we can get ye yer supplies." Greyson nodded and gave his brother a smile to show he was alright as he pat his shoulder comfortingly.

Soon enough they made it to a large, snowy white building. "This is Gringotts," Hagrid declared. "Safest place, 'cept for Hogwarts that is." Greyson nodded. Apparently, Hogwarts was an exceptional place, if Hagrid was anything to go by.

Greyson frowned at the grumpy, little men."What are they?" he asked, looking at them.

"Goblins, they run Gringotts," Hagrid explained. "Be crazy to steal from here. They've got tunnels running all under London and only they know where anything is. Even say there's a dragon guardin' down there."

"A real dragon?" Greyson asked. That sounded wicked. To imagine that there were tunnels stretching all over London, deeper than the underground, and there were dragons hiding down there. Greyson never would have imagined anything so wild, even in his dreams.

"That's what they say," Hagrid gruffed as they approached the counter where another goblin was. "I've always wanted me own dragon. I'd give me lef' hand fer one."

"Name?" the goblin said dryly. Greyson took this opportunity to look at the goblin up close. They kind of reminded Greyson of short, squat old men who spent too long in the sun. They're grey hair puffed around their ears and the crown of their head leaving the top quite bald. Though their fingers were long and seemed to be tipped with talons rather than nails. Not to mention their skin was like a dark grey-brown and wrinkled to be forever fixed in a scowl. Quite honestly, it intrigued Greyson more and he truly wanted to know more about them, despite their... grim appearance.

"Potter," Hagrid said.

"Key?" he asked, looking like all this was extremely dull. Greyson caught Harry looking around at everything around him, his face broken into a huge grin, making Greyson smile. Honestly, he would do anything if he could keep that smile on his brother's face.

"I know I've got it aroun' here somewhere," Hagrid said as he patted his pockets and pulling out things like moldy dog biscuits and even a beetle (much to the goblins detest) or two before finally revealing a small gold key.

"Here it is," Hagrid said proudly before shoving the random things back in his pockets. "Oh, and I have a letter from Dumbledore." He pulled a small folded letter and gave it to the goblin. Greyson looked at the letter curiously.

Goblin read the letter before nodding and tucking it away. "Griphook!" he yelled before yet another goblin appeared. "Take them to 687 and 713."

"This way," Griphook said as he led them to what appeared to be a mine cart. The four of them piled in and then the cart took off at an incredible speed. He heard Harry laughing in excitement as it seemed to be a bit like a rollercoaster ride with the cart going up and down and left and right. It even made Greyson laugh as they sped along. When they finally slowed down, Hagrid didn't look too good. "You alright?" Greyson asked as they stepped out in front of vault 687.

"Jus' a little sick in the stomach," Hagrid said. "Don't care for those carts too much." Greyson nodded as Griphook asked for a light that Hagrid held for him as the goblin opened the vault with the key.

Inside were piles and piles of glittering coins. He and Harry stared wide eyed at the sheer amount. There were gold, silver, and bronze coins. "I bet Dudley never even had this much," Harry said.

"The Dursleys wouldn't have complained so much if they knew," Greyson said as they stepped in to each fill a pouch that Hagrid helpfully supplied them.

"Those gold ones are galleons, the silver ones are sickles, and the little bronze ones are knuts," Hagrid told them helpfully. "Seventeen sickles to a galleon and twenty nine knuts to a sickle, easy enough." Greyson nodded and they got back in the cart.

"Is it possible to go a tad bit slower?" Hagrid asked.

"One speed only," Griphook said with a sharp toothed grin at Hagrid's discomfort. Soon enough they reached vault 713 and Greyson watched in amazement as Griphook only used the touch of a finger to open the vault.

"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin did that, they'd be trapped," Griphook told them as Hagrid grabbed a small wrapped package and stuffed it in his pocket.

"How often do you check?" Harry asked.

"About once every ten years," Griphook said with a wicked smile and Greyson felt it was fair enough. If you were stupid enough to steal from here, then you might as well be punished by the very thing you were trying to steal from.

When they returned to the top, Harry looked at Greyson grinning. "Did you see the blue fire when we were down there?" he asked excitedly. "I think it was the dragon!"

Greyson shook his head. "No, did you see it?"

Harry shook his head regretfully. "No, the cart was going too fast."

"I'm sure we'll see it eventually," Greyson said encouragingly as they walked down the white steps of the bank.

"Why don' you two go an' get yer robes," Hagrid said looking to a shop that said Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions. "An I'll go an get me a drink from the Cauldron to settle me stomach."

"Alright, Hagrid," Harry said before they headed into the shop.


	5. Chapter 5

The shop was lined with robes of every, shape, and color. A squat, but friendly looking witch. Before either one could speak, she asked, "Hogwarts?" They nodded.

"This way," she said as she led them to the back of the shop. "Got another boy being fitted up right now." The boy being fitted was extremely pale, even his hair was a pale silvery blonde, and had a pointed face. He looked quite bored though.

Harry hopped up on the other stool and the boy took notice while Madam Malkin began pinning up Harry's robe. "Hello," he said. "Hogwarts too?" Greyson paid little attention as the boy began carrying on a rather one sided conversation with Harry, at least until the boy thought Hagrid was some kind of servant and the conversation just seemed to keep getting worse. Honestly, the more Draco drawled on, the more it aggravated Greyson as he seemed to be upsetting his brother and insulting Hagrid all at once. He must have really been the proud stupid sort.

"All done, deary," Madam Malkin told Harry, who gladly hopped off the stool.

"I'll be outside with Hagrid," Harry told Greyson, who was now in a rather foul, if not down mood.

Greyson got up on the stool next and looked at the boy. "You really should learn to think before you open your mouth," Greyson told him coolly. "You never know when you're speaking to someone important. Or even muggle born."

"Oh, you're one of those sorts then?" the boy said, sneering.

"I never said that," Greyson said. "But I do know you upset my brother and insulted Hagrid. Besides, our surname is Potter, not that you bothered to learn that before insulting our mum." Greyson looked at and was glad to see that he had taken the boy off guard.

"Malfoy," he said, returning the name despite not apologizing, but he saw the light pink flush of his cheeks and knew that Malfoy recognized his mistake. "Draco Malfoy."

"Well, Draco," Greyson said as Malkin finished with Malfoy's robes. "I suppose we will be seeing you at Hogwarts." Draco didn't reply as he left the shop. Greyson watched him leave as he waited for Madam Malkin to finish with his robes before going out to see his brother and Hagrid.

Greyson frowned as his brother was still upset about the whole issue in the robe shop while they ate their ice creams of chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts. He even lied to Hagrid about anything bothering him. Honestly, to Greyson at least, Harry was a horrid liar. He always picked at _something_ when he lied. This time it was the bits of chopped nuts on his ice cream cone.

Greyson did manage to cheer him up with some cool color changing ink that they bought three bottles of and another twenty or so other bottles of different colors, which they enjoyed picking out. Greyson even managed to find one in a lovely maroon color for Harry and a beautiful turquoise one for himself.

"Hagrid, what's quidditch?" Harry asked Hagrid as they left, remembering their whole interaction with Draco again. Greyson looked up at Hagrid wanting to know the answer to the question as well, despite the rather unpleasant source the question came from.

"Blimey," Hagrid said. "Keep forgettin' how little ye two know."

"Don't remind me," Harry said glumly before telling Hagrid all about Malfoy.

"Yer not from some muggle family," Hagrid said angrily. "Why if he knew who he was talkin' to, he'd be eatin' his words and if he really was from a wizard family, then he grew up knowin' yer name."

"Don't worry Harry," Greyson smiled at his brother. "I'm sure you'll show him how great you are at school. I already know it and we didn't even know we were wizards."

Harry rolled his eyes, but did crack a smile at Greyson's ridiculousness. "But what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?" Harry asked.

"Those are the school houses," Hagrid said. "There's four, but everyone says Hufflepuff is full of a bunch o' duffers but-"

Harry cut him off and became down once more as he got inside his own head. "Bet I'll be in Hufflepuff."

"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," Hagrid said. "Not a single witch or wizard who went bad that wasn't in Slytherin."

"Well, Slytherin or Hufflepuff would be lucky to have Harry," Greyson said matter of factly.

They went on through the day buying their supplies, which was rather fun as every store was interesting and had something to look at. Greyson even got an extra book about werewolves, though Hagrid had to stop Harry from getting a book about jinxes.

"Alrigh'," Hagrid said. "All that's left is yer wands. And the only place to go is Ollivander's." Greyson and Harry were both eager about it. But as they started in the direction of the wand shop, Hagrid paused. "I haven't gotten either of ye a birthday present."

"Hagrid, you don't have to," Harry said. "Besides Greyson and Mrs. Figg got me plenty of candy for my birthday."

"Mm-hmm," Greyson agreed. "Same for mine. Penny sweets and a chocolate bar."

"Penny sweets?" Hagrid questioned outraged. "Fer yer eleventh? Nonsense. Ya have te get a present worthy for turnin' eleven."

Greyson frowned. "Like what?"

Hagrid frowned before smilin' brightly. "I know, I'll get ya each an owl. Darn useful too. Sending and bringing ya mail. Every kid wants themselves an owl."

Greyson shook his head before smiling. "Alright, Hagrid," Greyson accepting the gift, only because Hagrid seemed so happy about buying them the owls more than anything he'd seen out of the man so far. Harry on the other hand tried to dissuade Hagrid as he headed to a shop called Eeylop's Owl Emporium.

Greyson enjoyed the cool dark of the shop instead of the bright warmth of the outside. The shop was full of rustling feathers and soft hoots. He smiled looking at all the types of owls. Harry quickly found a beautiful snowy white owl. Greyson spent a little longer looking for his.

Eventually he saw a small brown, black, and white screech owl with wide inquisitive silver and black eyes. He smiled softly at it and gently put a hand out, which the owl nuzzled before giving a small hoot. "You'll be coming home with me," Greyson told the owl. He gently picked up his cage and brought him to the counter with Harry's.

"Alrigh' now fer yer wands," Hagrid said, leading back in the direction of Ollivanders.

They entered the shop that had rows and rows of bookcases, all of them filled with small rectangular boxes. Even the second floor, from what Greyson could see, had plenty of shelves filled with boxes. The shop was plenty dusty and seemed to never have anyone come in. Hagrid moved to sit in a worn chair in the corner of the shop with a hearty grunt.

"Good afternoon," a soft voice said. Greyson looked and saw an old man standing suddenly before them. He jumped slightly at the sight, and heard a loud crunch of wood. Hagrid must have been startled with the sound of the poor chair being under the strain of his enormous size.

"Hello," Harry said awkwardly and Greyson just nodded, not trusting himself not to laugh at the expression of exasperation on Hagrid's face as he attempts to extricate himself from the slightly sloping chair.

"Ah, the Potter boys," the man said. Nodding to himself. Despite having no hair upon his face, Greyson felt as though the man would have been twirling his fingers in a beard of grey to match his head of hair. "Thought I'd be seeing the two of you. You both look like your father, though Harry, you have your mother's eyes." He moved closer to examine the two of them and Greyson wished he could disappear from the man's scrutiny. He stepped back to give himself a little distance from the man and watched him cautiously. "It seems like they were just in here yesterday. Your mother's wand was ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Perfect for charm work."

He stepped back, much to Greyson's relief, as he moved to the rows of wands. "Your father on the hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eight inches. Pliable," He said. "Excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it, but really it's the wand that chooses the wizard."

He returned and got close to Harry, their noses almost touching. Greyson watched as his brother stiffened, almost frozen in place, neither sure how to react. "So, that's where..." he said, placing a long white finger on the scar. After a long moment, Mr. Ollivander spoke. "I'm sorry to say that I sold the very wand that did this..." He seemed very distant, as if he was somewhere else.

"If I had only known," he said before he spotted Hagrid and started rattling off about his wand, frowning with an intense look in his direction. "They snapped it when you were expelled, didn't they?"

"Er, yes, sir, they did," Hagrid said and held his tattered pink umbrella tighter to him. "Still got the pieces though."

"You aren't using them, are you?" Mr. Ollivander asked suspiciously.

"No sir, of course not," Hagrid said, though Greyson was skeptical of that answer with how close Hagrid was holding his umbrella, so tight his knuckles were going white.

"Alright, now who's first?" he asked.

"Me," Harry said stepping forward. Mr. Ollivander measured him every which way, as if he was making an outfit for Harry rather than giving him a wand. "Every wand has a magical core, be it unicorn hair, phoenix feather, or dragon heart string. And no two wands are ever alike."

After Harry tried out a couple wands, he finally found one that was perfect. Maple with unicorn hair, thirteen and a quarter inches long, and supple.

"Alright, now, your turn," Ollivander said to Greyson. Once again, Ollivander was measuring him up and down and this way and that before he went and pulled out a wand. After many disastrous attempts, the least of which was a small fire. Greyson lost count after five different wands of how many Mr. Ollivander put in his hand before taking it away to replace with another. Mr. Ollivander frowned.

"Let's try this one," he said. He carefully brought it over to Greyson. "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple." Greyson reached his hand for it and the moment he touched it, his entire body filled with warmth. It was as if he had been sat in front of the fireplace.

"Curious," Mr. Ollivander said.

"What?" Greyson asked frowning.

"Well, that wand had a brother, as both were made from the feather of the very same phoenix. It's brother is the one that gave young Harry there his scar." Greyson felt a pit form at the bottom of his stomach."But, I believe great things can be expected from both of you." Greyson didn't care much for that information,feeling his insides twist uncomfortably and his mind started to race but he was careful to keep it off his face, not wanting Harry to know or see. He wasn't ready to talk to Harry about that, or ever preferably. But they paid for their wands, a whole fourteen galleons, before heading out.


	6. Chapter 6

Soon enough they had returned back to number four Privet Drive after their fun filled day shopping for wizard stuff. They both lugged their trunks in and expected Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia to fuss at them but instead they were strangely ignored.

It wasn't even fun to _try_ and scare' the Dursleys anymore, especially with Dudley jumping every time he saw Greyson or Harry. So the brothers spent most of their time in their bedroom reading their school books. Harry had named his owl Hedwig, after a famous witch in one of their school books, and Greyson named his Atrox, after one of the famous werewolves in his book. The pair even got along quite well and went out on hunts together.

Harry marked out August 31 on their calendar and Greyson frowned. "Should we go ask Uncle Vernon about giving us a lift to King's Cross?" he asked. "Hagrid said we need to go there tomorrow."

"I suppose you're right," Harry agreed,sighing as he mentally prepared himself to deal with their uncle. They went into the living room where Uncle Vernon sat in his chair before the fireplace sipping on his evening brandy. Greyson watched as Uncle Vernon swirled his brandy around like he tended to do before giving it a large whiff and then a sigh at how great and expensive it was.

"Um, excuse, me Uncle Vernon," Harry said and Greyson gladly let him ask for their lift to King's Cross tomorrow as Harry was the better behaved one out of the two of them. "Do you mind giving us a lift to King's Cross Station tomorrow? We need to be there for eleven to take our train to Hogwarts."

Uncle Vernon just grunted and Grey took that as a yes, as did Harry, since he didn't yell and tell them how horrid it was for them to go and learn 'magic'. "Thank you," Harry said before they started out.

"Funny thing, wizards," Uncle Vernon said, his voice mocking and lip curled in a sneer as his eyes stayed on the amber liquid in his glass. "Taking a train to school. No magic carpets? Or did all of their broomsticks break?"

They both stayed quiet as they weren't quite sure how to actually handle their uncle talking to them for the first time in a month. "What platform do you even need to be on?"

Greyson opened the envelope that contained two gold and white tickets. "London to Hogwarts, one way travel. Platform nine and three quarters."

Uncle Vernon let out a laugh, the harsh sound loud in the small room. "Platform nine and three quarters?" he asked.

"Well, that's what it says," Greyson said, not particularly fond of Uncle Vernon's laughter. He hated it more than his anger. Whenever Uncle Vernon laughed it was because someone had done or said something particularly stupid in his eyes or got harmed, and this time it was over them believing what was on their ticket.

"Very well, we'll give you two a ride. We have to go to London anyway. Have to get that blasted tail removed for Dudley before he goes off to Smeltings', otherwise we wouldn't bother," he said, making it clear with a wave of his hand that he didn't care what happened to them either way. With that they left and were rather restless the night before and early in the morning.

They both wore their jeans the next day, conscious of attracting too much attention in their robes. Hedwig and Atrox were already enough to cause heads to turn.

Somehow they managed to fit both their trunks in Uncle Vernon's car and place both owls back there too. Aunt Petunia had to convince Dudley to ride next to Greyson since Harry had wanted a window seat, even though Dudley would have preferred to sit next to neither of the Potters. But it didn't really surprise Greyson as Aunt Petunia _always _catered to Dudley to stop him from being upset. Eventually she bribed him with _two_ new video games for his computer and a new game system that was going to be coming out for the Christmas holidays.

Greyson ended up passing out on Harry's shoulder as he slept way less than his brother did. Even though both of them were restless the night before, Harry had passed out long before Greyson did. He had stayed up packing their trunks then repacking and triple checking to make sure everything was there before sleep finally took him, until Harry woke him up well before dawn. "Wake up," Harry said, shaking him awake. "We're here."

Greyson was suspicious when Uncle Vernon was unusually friendly as he helped them put their trunks and things on a cart and even wheeled Harry's right up to the station platform going directly to number nine. "Alright, platform nine and three quarters," he said grinning. "Well it should be right between platforms nine and ten. Shouldn't it?"

He felt Harry's face falling as if this had been one terrible joke. All of it. "Well, have a good semester!" Again, Uncle Vernon was laughing as he walked off with Dudley and Aunt Petunia.

"Don't listen to him, Harry," Greyson said. "I'm sure someone here has heard of it. Hagrid wouldn't talk about Hogwarts if it didn't exist." He was beginning to dislike Uncle Vernon more than Dudley or even that Malfoy kid. At least Dudley and Malfoy just went to being asses than going on like it was some sick joke. Greyson looked around and spotted a guard. "Look, I'm sure he knows about the train to Hogwarts." He grabbed Harry by the hand and led him to the guard.

"Scuse me," Greyson said. "But can you tell us how to get to Platform Nine and Three Quarters? We're looking to take it to Hogwarts."

"What kind of joke are you playing?" he asked. "There's no such platform." He checked his watch and left quickly, muttering to himself, before Greyson could even say anything.

"See?" Harry said glumly. Greyson was desperate now, beginning to look around more intensely**. **There had to be _some _way to get to the platform. After spending forever trying to figure it out he let out a sigh of defeat. There was only ten minutes left... they were never going to make it to the train... if there was even one at all...

"Greyson," Harry said suddenly. "Look!" Harry pointed out a group of flaming, red headed people. "She said the word muggles." Harry hurriedly pushed his cart towards them and Greyson followed.

"Alright, Percy," the woman said. "You go first." They watched as the boy ran toward the brick wall in between nine and ten. But before they could see where he went, a large group came between them. She had two more boys with bright red hair go but once again, neither of the Potter's could see where they even went.

"Excuse me," Harry said pushing his cart up to the woman. "But how do..."

"Get to the platform?" the woman asked helpfully. "It's alright dear. It's Ron's first year too. Now, you just go into the barrier, best to run if you're a bit nervous." Harry nodded but still seemed a bit timid.

"Want me to go?" Greyson asked helpfully, noticing his hesitation.

"Preferably," Harry said. Greyson nodded and positioned his cart towards the wall. He gave his brother an encouraging smile. Readying his stance he felt that courage that always came as soon as Harry needed him, as familiar as ever.

"See you on the other side," he said. He took off running and closed his eyes just before his cart crashed into the wall. When he opened them he was no longer at the King's Cross station he knew, but instead was greeted with the sight of a beautiful scarlet red engine. He let out a relieved breath, feeling his shoulders relax, and moved his cart out of the way so Harry wouldn't run him over.

"Come on," Greyson said as soon as Harry appeared, interrupting his wide eyed stare of wonder. "Let's try and find us a compartment." They pushed their carts off towards the train and eventually found one empty at the very end. Together they managed to get their trunks loaded and tucked away. Atrox and Hedwig were fast asleep in their cages.

"Scuse me," the red headed boy from earlier, Ron, said. "Mind if I share with you, all the others are full?" Greyson noticed how nervous Ron was with how his hands gripped the door, despite his best attempts not to show it.

"Course," Harry said brightly. Greyson offered him a small smile as he sat with his werewolf book comfortably in his lap. Harry had always been open and friendly to those who gave him the time of day. Things needed to be different for them at Hogwarts. If Ron could be friends with Harry and make him happy, Greyson could attempt to help that along in any way possible, even if it meant offering a small smile.

"Whoa," Ron said after doing a double take at Harry's scar, visible due to his tousled hair. "Are you?"

"Harry Potter?" Greyson finished for him. He wrapped an arm around his little brother's shoulders. "Yes he is. Defeating the most evil villain the wizard world has ever known when he was only a year old and still in diapers."

"Wow," Ron said with a note of awe, before his voice went down to a sadder note. "I'm the youngest with five older brothers... I'd never do anything as remarkable as that. Bill was headboy and Charlie was captain of the quidditch team and Percy's a prefect so he got an owl and new robes. Fred and George get good enough marks, but they're funny, everyone thinks so."

"I doubt I'll be that good. I'll probably be the worst since I know nothing 'bout magic," Harry said. Greyson just let himself fade into the background and watched as the scenery went by while Harry made himself his first real friend. However, the more the conversation continued on, the bits and pieces he caught, the more he found himself liking Ron.

Once the amazement of Harry being famous died down, Ron and Harry seemed to be two in the same, especially with Harry and Ron swapping stories. Greyson felt the fondness in his chest growing as Harry told him plenty of stories concerning the Dursleys, while Ron told him all about his older brothers and all sorts of exciting things that went on in the Weasley house.

By the time noon came, a lady popped her head in with a cart full of sweets and Harry eagerly bought everything on it. Greyson smiled at his antics and enjoyed munching on some of the candy with Harry and Ron. Ron explained about all the different wizard candies like Chocolate Frogs that really hopped and Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans meaning _every_ flavor. Harry even seemed to open up more, trying the new candies with only a fraction of his usual hesitance and wariness when faced with new things and Greyson loved seeing it.

Greyson dozed off again until the door to their compartment opened up around the time Ron was talking about turning his rat, Scabbers, bright yellow. On the other side of it was a girl with bushy brown hair. "Have any of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville lost one,"

"No toads, but plenty of chocolate frogs," Greyson said, attempting to be friendly to her for Harry's sake, and held one out to her, which she ignored in favor of Ron having his wand out.

"Oh? Are you about to practice magic?" she asked Ron.

"Er, yeah, I guess," Ron said.

"Well, let's see it then," she said and sat down expectantly. Ron then proceeded with a spell that Greyson was highly suspect wasn't even a spell at all. Not to mention, Ron looked more like he was about to jab Scabbers with his wand than do a magic spell.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" She asked and didn't even wait for Ron to answer before continuing. She was quite sure of herself and was amazingly confident. Greyson, still irritated at being ignored earlier, didn't even attempt to give her more space and went back to looking out the window. She started telling them about all the different houses and how she hoped to be in Gryffindor as it seemed to be the best and how she read all of their course books. "I'm Hermione Granger, and you are?"

"Greyson Potter," he answered, half paying attention, as did Ron and finally his little brother.

"Are you really?" Hermione asked taking a sudden interest in Harry and then proceeded to tell him about all the books he was in. While Greyson didn't care for a lot of attention, it still stung to be outright ignored.

"Well, best to get back to helping Neville find his toad, though you should put your robes on. I suspect we'll be there soon." With that she left and shut the door behind her.

Ron then talked about how his family had all been Gryffindors and how he would hate to be put in Slytherin**. **"I just don't want to be with any house that has _her_ in it," he added.

"Well, I don't think she's too bad," Greyson said, despite his irritation at her dismissing him. He couldn't see himself liking her, but he could admit her confidence was respectable. "She definitely seems sure of herself, and eager too."

Ron just rolled his eyes. "Anyway, what's your favorite quidditch team?" he asked. As soon as Harry admitted to not knowing about it, Ron launched into a rant about all the teams, rules of the game, and anything that even revolved around the subject.

Once more the door to their compartment opened up, this time revealing Malfoy and two boys. "Finally decided to apologize?" Greyson asked, meeting Malfoy's stare.

"Actually Potter," Malfoy said, looking down his nose at Greyson. "I came to make sure you two weren't rubbing elbows with the wrong sort." Malfoy caught Harry looking at the two boys on either side of him. "This is Crabbe and Goyle, and I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

"I swear, you sound like a James Bond character every time you introduce yourself," Greyson said, rolling his eyes.

"A what?" Ron asked.

"It's a muggle reference," Greyson said dismissively. "But of course, Malfoy, we'd just bother you since we are as bad as those muggles borns you were talking about, since we were raised as such." Ron, of course, snickered.

"Red hair and shabby clothes, no need to tell me who you are, or rather what you are," Malfoy said eyeing Ron. "You're a Weasley. Well, Potter, you'll soon learn some wizarding families are better than others and I can help you with that."

This time Harry spoke, surprising Greyson a bit. "I can sort that out for myself, thank you," Harry told Malfoy coolly. Malfoy's face just scrunched up more and Greyson couldn't have been prouder of his little brother.

"Best be careful," Malfoy said.

"Or what?" Greyson asked standing up to Malfoy. He ignored Crabbe and Goyle. "You going to bully your father into coming to get you? I thought I already made it clear not to mess with my brother, but apparently not, so I'll spell it out for you. Leave Harry alone. And seeing as he's taken a shine to Ron, I don't need you botherin' him either."

"You might end up blown up like your parents," He said. A startling rage overtook him, turning everything red, and before anyone could blink, Greyson swung at Malfoy, hitting him squarely in the cheek. **T**he thud of his fist landing on Malfoy's face was the only sound for several moments. Malfoy seemed stuck with his hand on his face and a look of utter disbelief that was quickly turning to anger.

"What is going on here?" Hermione's voice called over the fighting of Malfoy and Greyson, who were wrestling around on the floor of the train, causing them to stop as Ron and Harry pulled Greyson off of him.

"Malfoy just wanted a lesson in how _muggles_ handle their issues," Greyson said, eyeing him.

"Like barbarians?" Hermione said. "You best be careful or else you'll be expelled before we even get there." Malfoy straightened up, face flushed red, mouth opening and closing but nothing coming out. He ended up turning with a huff and left with Crabbe and Goyle following right behind him.

"Anyway, I've talked to the conductor and he says we're nearly there," she informed them. "You best get your robes on then." She closed the door once more and the three began to change.

Soon after they dressed, the train slowly came to a stop. As they got off the train, they heard a familiar voice call out over the crowd, "Firs' years! Firs' years this way!"

"Hagrid!" Harry and Greyson said in unison.

"Harry, Greyson," Hagrid said with a large smile. "How was yer trip?"

"Alright once we found the platform," Greyson told him. Hagrid just smiled and led them towards the lake that had dozens of small boats surrounding one large one that Greyson suspected was for Hagrid himself. When he looked past the boat, he saw a large castle off in the distance. "Woah..." They were really going to go to school in a castle?

"Alrigh, four to a boat," Hagrid said as they all piled in. Greyson, Ron, and Harry shared a boat with Hermione. Soon as everyone was settled, Hagrid said a few words and the boats glided soundlessly across the lake, straight towards the castle.


	7. Chapter 7

Soon enough, they were in what felt like an underground dock and they all piled out of the boats.

Once Hagrid was assured everyone was out of the boats and accounted for, even Neville's missing toad was found. Hagrid went up and knocked on the door before going in and soon after a strict looking woman, with her gray hair done up tightly in a bun at the top of her head and nose that reminded Greyson of a hawk, came out. She looked like she had no time for nonsense, and no one questioned her as she led them to a small chamber outside of two giant doors.

"Alright, line up in rows of two," she instructed, voice shrill but precise and they all settled down to listen. Whoever her gaze landed on seemed to fidget, and Greyson found himself unimpressed. _These are my classmates? Great._ "My name is Professor McGonagall and we are about to do the sorting ceremony and you will be placed in one of four houses, each of which has produced many great witches and wizards. Your house is to be like your family here at Hogwarts and you will be earning points towards the House cup. Everyone matters as even the smallest amount can cause you to win or lose the cup for your house. Now, when I call your name, you are to come to the front of the line." She turned around, with a dramatic flourish of her black robes, before opening the doors to reveal a great hall.

Four rows of tables, each filled with students, took up most of the room. Loud chattering and laughter filled the hall and he took it all in, floor to… well, no ceiling. In its place seemed to be an open view of the night sky, clearer than Greyson had ever seen it. There was a long stretch at the very back of the room filled with what he assumed were the professors. They all seemed to have the same general style of dress as Professor McGonagall. Greyson took it all in for a few moments, just as Harry did.

"It's just bewitched, you know," he heard Hermione tell a girl behind him. "It's not really the night sky. I read all about it in _Hogwarts: A History_." Soon they reached the front and Greyson could feel everyone's eyes on them, making him wish he was invisible. _An invisibility spell will be the first thing I master I swear,_ he thought petulantly as he watched Professor McGonagall pull out a dirty, tattered old hat from a box and set it on a stool.

Greyson frowned at its frayed edges and spots almost threadbare upon it before it began to sing. It's song was about the Hogwarts houses calling Gryffindor brave, Slytherin cunning, Ravenclaw wise, and Hufflepuff loyal and how it would put you where you belong. Soon enough McGonagall pulled out a list and began calling out names in alphabetical order. Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom were placed in Gryffindor, while that Malfoy kid and his two goons were in Slytherin.

"Potter, Greyson," McGongall called and Greyson once more summoned his waning energy and gave his brother an encouraging smile.

"Watch," He said, seeing how nervous Harry was. "There's nothing to it." He walked up and felt the hat plopped on his head.

_So much to choose._ The hat whispered in his ear. _You are smart, Ravenclaw maybe? But so very loyal, perhaps a Hufflepuff? No, no, you are destined for greatness... so it must be _"Slytherin!" the hat yelled out and Greyson once more felt that pit in his stomach. Everyone had talked about how bad Slytherin was. _Slytherin?! Harry doesn't belong in Slytherin but obviously he's going to be with me. If anyone gives him grief, I'll be ready._ The Slytherin table clapped, save for Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle.

Greyson squared his shoulders and walked down proudly, sitting in an empty spot, watching to see where Harry was to be placed. WhileGreyson hoped beyond that his little brother would be with him, he honestly didn't see him as a Slytherin. If anything, he saw Harry as a Hufflepuff as they seemed to be soft and kind like his brother. After a long while the hat finally shouted loudly. "Gryffindor!" and his heart sank.

Harry seemed just as shocked as he was for a quick second before excitement lit up his face. It dimmed as he caught Greyson's eye, and the smile sent to Harry this time took so much effort he wasn't sure he pulled it off. But this seemed to be enough for Harry and he watched as Harry went off excitedly to his house table, where the Weasley twins were proudly shouting, "We've got Potter! We've got Potter!" He could see Harry's smiling face, though it did little to help him. He was thankful that at least Ron was placed with him. Ron was good for Harry and would hopefully make sure his little brother was alright. Greyson looked at Hagrid, aiming a smile his way as well, but it seemed Hagrid's attention was on Harry and Greyson had never felt more alone. _Of course. Why am I surprised? Harry is the Boy Who Lived. I suppose I'm just Greyson. Foolish. _His smile fell, and he didn't bother putting it back, settling in for the rest of the ceremony.

Once the last name had been called, a man in bright purple robes and a long silver-gray beard stood up with half moon spectacles. He seemed to demand attention and Greyson found his eyes following him as he made his way to center stage. He gave a short speech before food appeared about blubber oddment, or something. Greyson hardly paid attention to him as his entire attention was focused on his brother and what was happening over at his table.

"Hey, Potter!" one of the boys yelled snapping their fingers at Greyson, causing him to blink.

"What?" Greyson snapped irritably. He did not appreciate someone snapping at his face to get his attention like some kind of dog.

"We were asking you if you're related to Harry Potter, the famous one," he said.

"How many other Harry Potters go to Hogwarts?" Greyson asked. They didn't answer but he watched as their face scrunched up, irritated. "But yes, Harry is my brother." He left it at that and returned his focus to Harry, not really caring for any of the conversations going on around him.

At some point he nibbled on a bread roll or two, but he didn't really remember grabbing it. Soon enough all the food disappeared and became desserts and it was around this time that Greyson saw Harry wince and touch his scar. He gripped the table, holding himself back from running all the way across the hall like a mother hen to check on him. But fortunately he had Ron and he would be forever grateful at the concern that showed on the red heads face for his brother.

The old man with the long beard said some more words once the food was gone and plates were cleaned, mentioning how you should go into this forest and something about playing a quidditch and going to the third floor and then suddenly, the whole school began singing. Greyson blinked and looked around, usually the last person to be caught off guard by something as obvious as a school sing along. It was hard to think, the days events weighing on him almost physically. Even worse was how out of tune and off note everyone seemed to be, but the old man waving the wand did not seem to care in the slightest.

Soon everyone around him stood up and began filing away and Greyson watched as he was led in the opposite direction of his brother. Harry didn't even look back.

Down they went, heading towards the dungeons. Seemed fitting for a house that produced dozens of wicked witches and dangerous wizards. _Destined for greatness, huh? Stupid hat._ Soon they stopped in front of some stone wall. "Now, remember the password to the common room," some lead student said instructed, voice bouncing off the stone around them. "It's Huffleduffs." Greyson watched as the stone slid into itself to reveal a hallway, green wallpaper and silver accents welcoming to the eye. "This way now," he said and led them deeper.

Greyson looked at all the stone, worn smooth from the centuries of students that came before him. When they reached the end it showed a huge room also decorated in emerald green with silver accents. Lush emerald green rugs covered the floors, with chairs and sofas of the same green surrounding the rugs and around the fireplace where there was a roaring fire made up, warming the cool dungeons. _Don't tell me everything is going to be green? _ It made it feel a bit... homey.

Grey walked over to a large window and stepped back as a giant squid swam by. "Woah," Greyson said and went to touch it as it didn't seem to be _just_ a window. When his hand made contact with the surface, it came back wet. Greyson felt undoubtably stupid. _Of course_ it wouldn't have been held away by glass. They were in a _magic_ castle to learn _magic_ at _magic_ school. Harry would get a laugh at his brother's foolishness if he ever got to tell him.

Speaking of Harry, wait till he saw this! He would love to see the view of the lake from down here. He turned ready to tell his brother and then remembered... he wasn't with him. He vaguely listened to where his bed chambers were, but only paid attention when he heard he was sharing a room with Malfoy. _Of course. Why not add him to, not just today and every other day, but let's make it to where I have to be with the dolt who liked insulting Harry _and _Hagrid while we're at it?_

He saw the dark wooded four poster beds, dressed in green and silver silks and velvets and looked perfect for a long night of rest, something Greyson already knew he was likely not to get. Fatigue was weighing heavy on his shoulders but his mind was still running in small circles.

"You best stay out of my things, Potter," Malfoy sniffed as he began getting his own things out of his trunk, taking the only other bed in the room, and Greyson rolled his eyes.

"And pray tell, what would I do with a few used snot rags and skunk oil?" Greyson asked him as he noticed there was a green and silver knitted scarf with emerald green gloves as well as 3 green and silver ties sitting on the nightstand. He looked over at Malfoy to notice his face was once again tinged red. Well, at least he had someone who was as easy to mess with as Dudley was, even if he was worlds brighter than his large dimwitted cousin.

"I'll have you know," Malfoy started.

"That your father paid fifty galleons for your trunk to be imported from the Nile itself? Or that your robes are lined with gold?" Greyson asked before rolling his eyes. "When will you get it through your thick skull that me and my brother aren't dazzled by people with money showing off how rich they are? Nor do we actually care about how much they have, otherwise Harry wouldn't have befriended that shabby redheaded poor boy despite your best efforts to make a fool of him."

Malfoy just opened and closed his mouth a time or two, seemingly flustered at being talked back to in such a way, before finally settling on. "Just don't touch my stuff," and continued unpacking and Greyson did the same, adding another eye roll for good measure.

Soon enough, the Slytherin Common Rooms became quiet as students went off to sleep, except for Greyson.

He laid in his bed for what seemed to be forever, though it had only been fifteen minutes according to the mechanical alarm clock that had been underneath the scarves and gloves.

He glanced over and saw Malfoy fast asleep. Though he was laying on his stomach, one leg kicked out with the blanket hanging haphazardly off the bed. He even had his head lolled to the side with his mouth hanging open, drooling. Malfoy was different sleeping that way with all his defenses down and not looking down at everyone like they were slugs or roaches needing to be squashed. In fact, he looked quite peaceful, making Greyson wonder what kind of weight was resting on his shoulders to make him act an ass all the time. They were going to be rooming together for who knew how long. Maybe he could make an effort to get along with him. Maybe.

He sighed and dug out one of his books, _A History of Magic_ this time, and went to sit beside the fire and see if the giant squid would keep him company. He sat in one of the couches and tried to get comfortable. But he couldn't.

All Greyson could do is worry. _When will I see Harry? How often do houses get together? _A spike of dread lodged itself in Greyson's throat at the thought. _What do I do without Harry here? How can I help him if he needs me if I'm this far away from him? _Was his little brother doing alright? Was he able to sleep fine? What if the others were treating him poorly because Greyson was a Slytherin? Greyson knew how poorly everyone thought of his house, what if they took that hate and directed it at his little brother?

He felt his stomach twist up in knots. He sat there, his book forgotten, and kept repeating those same questions over and over again in his mind. After a while, he began to pace until the bell tower rung out announcing that it was four in the morning.

Four in the morning was an unbelievably lonely time in the Slytherin common room, Greyson decided. Not much swam in front of the common room and the fire had died out with only a few shining embers glowing in the dark of the room. _Should we have even agreed to come here?_ He sighed and took his book back to bed and laid there until sleep overcame him but it wasn't very restful. Harry's back as he walked away from him was the last thing he thought of.


	8. Chapter 8

Malfoy's alarm went off too early for Greyson. He turned to throw an annoyed look his way and was greeted with an empty bed and a distant thud. It took him a moment for his sleep-muddled brain to think to look down, but when he did he was greeted with Malfoy face down, tangled up in the sheets and ears bright red. A laugh bubbled up in his throat despite himself and when his fit subsided he realized Malfoy was looking at him slack jawed. For a few moments they just stared at each other, both unsure how to deal with the other.

Eventually he pushed himself out of bed, not particularly feeling like getting out of bed and going to classes. Though the thought that did comfort him was the fact he would see his brother.

He headed to the Great Hall and sat down at the Slytherin table, waiting to see when his brother would appear. His knee bounced up and down anxiously as he waited and waited. It was almost time to start heading to his first class, which was Charms with Professor Flitwick.

He smiled when he saw Harry and Ron appear in the doorway of the Great Hall and got up to go greet them. "Where do you think you're going Potter?" the older boy who led them to the common rooms asked him.

Greyson paused to look at him. "I'm going to see my brother," he said, not particularly caring for him. Was it normal to be at odds with almost everyone in your house? Grey cast a look at the other tables and decided that, no, it was most certainly not.

"You're a Slytherin now," he told Greyson. "So you eat your meals at the Slytherin table."

"Oh, bugger off," Greyson said dismissively as he ignored him to go see Harry. But before he could, the bell rang, signalling the end of breakfast and the start of the school day. He stopped and watched as Harry and Ron eached grabbed a muffin and ran off to go to their first class.

He sighed and drudged his way through his classes. He took notes and made his way to and from but he never really got a chance to see his brother. Anytime he saw him, it was only brief glances and small waves. It was honestly killing Greyson to be apart from his brother for so long.

It didn't do anyone around him any good as Greyson slept very little due to his worry over Harry, so he was extremely snappish and short tempered. Of course it caused anyone from the other houses to stray away from him as he was seen as one the worst in the Slytherin house over those first few days, not that it really bothered Greyson. He actually preferred it as it meant fewer people would bother him.

However, with how late he was staying up, he always managed to see these odd creatures with large eyes and huge batlike ears. House elves, is what they were called, though they weren't such great company as they were all prim and proper when talking with Greyson saying "yes, sir", and "of course, sir", and any other thing with the word sir in it.

Finally, on Friday morning Greyson saw Harry and Ron finally appear in the Great Hall at a decent enough time that he could finally sit down and have a proper chat with his brother. Greyson could feel the stares at him, all with disgust and distrust, but he ignored them with his full attention zoned in on Harry.

"And what do you think you're doing?" a tall red headed boy said, arms folded across his front looking very much like a rule-following, tattletale. Greyson looked at him and recognized him as Percy, Ron's older brother, the prefect, if he remembered correctly.

"Going to see Harry," he said and moved to step around him only to find Percy still blocking his path.

"Oh no you aren't," Percy said. "I'm not going to have a Slytherin cause any trouble with the Gryffindor first years."

Greyson blinked. "But I-" he said trying to go to his brother. Instead he was grabbed by two Slytherins, much bigger than him, and dragged back to his table. He sat there, stunned at the turn of events. He just wanted to know how his brother's first week had gone. He sighed, defeated, and watched as the owls came by. Atrox never brought Greyson anything, and why should he? He had no friends, no family except for Harry, though Hogwarts seemed to be doing a grand job of taking that from him now too.

Greyson blinked when a note fell onto his empty plate, though it was almost always empty as the stress made it hard for Greyson to properly enjoy a meal or even food.

While he wasn't wasting away, his cheeks looked thinner when he happened to glance in the mirror and run a comb through his hair. Every once and a while he caught Malfoy looking at him. However, when ver he turned to snap at him for staring, Malfoy quickly turned away and worked on his studies or whatever else he was doing.

He unfolded it to see he had a note from Hagrid. He smiled softly and quickly scribbled that he'd love to have tea with Hagrid this afternoon at 2. He'd probably even get to see Harry and Ron as well!

He brightened at the prospect of finally getting to spend some time with his brother that it caused the knots in his stomach to loosen and make him realize that he was unbelievably starved. He started piling eggs and bacon and fat sausages onto his plate along with toast with marmalade.

He headed to potions class, a double session that he shared with Harry and Ron. Perhaps he'd even be able to sit with them. Greyson was one of the first to arrive as he was familiar with the class since it was in the dungeons near the Slytherin common room.

Try as he might, he couldn't even get close to his brother or even save him a seat and before he knew it, Harry was surrounded by a sea of Gryffindor's and he was stuck beside Malfoy.

Greyson watched helplessly as Snape began an endless tirade of questions that Harry didn't know but Greyson did. He had an excellent memory compared to his little brother and was more of a bookworm than Harry ever was. Though there were many ways Greyson outshone Harry, though he never really focused on them enough to notice.

Adding powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood? It produced a horrid sleeping potion, something by the name of Draught of Death.

A bezoar stone? Easy, it was in a goat's stomach and saved you from most poisons, they learned that in history class last year and was told it was a myth and believed by old kings. And as for monkshood and wolfsbane, they were the exact same plant.

"I don't know sir," Harry said and looked at Hermione who knew the answer to every single one of Snape's questions as well. "But why don't you ask Hermione, she seems to know."

Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Didn't bother opening you books before the school semester, Potter?" Snape asked. "I guess fame isn't everything."

Greyson stood up, unable to help himself. "He did open them," Greyson snapped. "We read them the entire month before the semester started. And as for your questions, it would be a powerful sleeping potion, come from a goat's stomach and is used as a cure for most poisons. Wolfsbane and monkshood are the exact same plant. Not to mention that Harry has never even had an inkling of superiority his entire life. It's everyone here who has ridiculous expectations here for him since he's the bloody boy who lived." Snape eyed him and his lips curled back into a sneer.

"Go to Dumbledore's office," Snape commanded, pointing one long pale finger towards the door. "And ten points from Slytherin for your outburst." He was given disgusted glares from the other Slytherins and surprised looks from the Gryffindor first years as if someone standing up for someone outside of their house was unheard of.

Greyson sighed and grabbed his books before leaving the dungeons. Who the hell was Dumbledore? That name sounded familiar. He frowned and remembered Hagrid talking about him being the greatest headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen. He walked around and eventually saw Percy. "Scuse me," Greyson said, hopefully Percy the Perfect Prefect could help him.

"What?" he asked, snappishly.

"I was wanting to know where Dumbledore's office was, but of course a Gryffindor wouldn't want to help," he drawled before pushing forward. _Is this how school is going to be forever? _

He ended up not going to Dumbledore's office after his encounter with Percy and instead trudged his way towards Hagrid's hut since it didn't really matter what he did if he was going to be miserable either way. Hagrid's hut was all the way across school grounds and out by the forest. It looked practical and functional more than anything. Hagrid had a giant pair of work boots sitting out by the door and a crossbow of all things, but he was quickly learning not to be surprised.

Greyson didn't even knock as he strode in, ignoring the great black dog and taking a seat in one of Hagrid's massive chairs. "Greyson!" Hagrid said cheerfully. "What're you doin' here so early? Thought you had classes this morning."

"I did," he practically growled. "But Snape apparently doesn't like it when someone tells him somethin'." He got up and began to pace as he ranted all about how horrible Hogwarts was and how everyone stopped him from seeing Harry because he was a damned Slytherin and Harry was a Gryffindor and all about how agrravating Malfoy was and how Percy the Perfect Prefect Weasley had just about the largest stick shoved up his ass that Greyson had ever seen and then Snape was the biggest asshat to his little brother ever and when he snapped because everyone saw Harry as larger than life they expected him to carry on those same expectations and then he was sent to Dumbledore's office wherever the hell that is.

"Alrigh', alrigh', take a deep breath an' drink," Hagrid said and set a large cup of tea in front of Greyson before pouring in something from his flask. "Don' tell nobody I did that. But should help calm ye down a bit." Greyson nodded and took a large sip to what he suspected was brandy and hot tea. The smell of the alcohol reminded him of Uncle Dursley, but he pushed past it like he did everything else lately.

It filled Greyson with a fiery kind of warmth and he took a deep breath before addressing Hagrid again. "Sorry," Greyson sighed, forcing his shoulders to relax. "It's just... this has been one of the absolute worst weeks..." He took another sip and stared at the amber liquid. "First Harry was put in a different house than mine... and it's the absolute worst house... or at least I was put in the worst one... No one will even let me near him... This morning with Percy, he thought I was just going to harass Harry because I'm a Slytherin and before I could even speak, the Slytherins dragged me back to our house table. I haven't even talked to Harry all week.

"Not to mention I'm stuck sharing a room with that Malfoy kid and he just wants to tell me how expensive all his rubbish is as if I actually care about something as stupid as money...

"But everyone is enamored with him, and I mean they should be, he's bloody wonderful, but they just see him as this great thing because of something he doesn't even remember doing, not to mention he has no idea how the wizard world even works. And all I can do is worry about him... Worry if everyone is going to treat him horrible because I'm a Slytherin, or what if he has trouble sleeping and gets his nightmares where he sees bright green flashes and hears screaming and his scar hurts, or what if he needs me and I'm not there?"

Greyson felt his eyes start to sting. He hated how when it came to Hagrid he always felt the need to cry and tell the man everything going on in his head. Hagrid was just so sturdy, in body and spirit, the words seemed to spill from him before he could properly think them through. It made him feel stupidly weak. He knew it was stupid because Hagrid was the most gentle and understanding soul he knew. He didn't _have_ to be brave and strong for Hagrid. And then a thought struck him. _What if Hagrid leaves me too? Harry didn't try to visit... what if... what if... he doesn't care anymore?_

Hagrid sat down and looked at Greyson. "That's a lot ye got tumblin' aroun' in there," Hagrid said. "No wonner yer a mess with all of tha' goin on." Hagrid held his arms out once more and pulled Greyson into them when he didn't make a motion of going to him. "It'll be alrigh', Greyson."

"What if... what if... you start to hate me too?" Greyson asked in a small voice.

"Hate you?" Hagrid asked in shock. "Fer wha'?"

"For being a Slytherin," Greyson said. "Harry already does..."

"An why on earth would Harry hate ya'?" Hagrid asked. "From all ye've told me, he's bloody lucky to have a brother who cares so much about him that he'd get points taken away from his house, much less in front of his house teacher."

"He never came to see me... today was the first day he came to breakfast early enough for me to talk to him," Greyson said. Hagrid frowned and stared at him before poking him in the stomach, catching the new slight give of his robes in large fingers.

"Ye haven't been eatin," Hagrid said frowning. Greyson looked down, not wanting to meet Hagrid's stare. He felt his cheeks start to heat in shame. "Ye got to let Harry go an' explore a bit. Ye can't keep him with ye forever." Greyson knew that, even if he didn't want to admit that Hagrid was right. "What were ye gonna do at the Dursleys when Harry wen' off to Muggle school without you?"

"He wasn't," Greyson said. "I was just going to go with him..." He sighed. "I've never been without him... he's always been there. When I slept, when I ate, when we were out... it was always just me and him... but I can't even spend time with my brother or ask him how he's doing..." That stinging in his eyes was back and Greyson couldn't stop it this time. He felt the first of the hot tears spill onto his cheeks and drop onto the floor. Small sobs broke free, despite his best efforts to keep them at bay. "Nobody even cares about me... they all just care about the boy who lived..."

"Now stop that," Hagrid said softly, his arms tightening slightly. "Harry cares plenty and I sure do. I'm just sure he's been occupied with figuring his way aroun'. Jus' you wait and see, he's just waiting to see his brother and tell him all about his great first week at Hogwarts."

"Fine," Greyson moped, quickly wiping his eyes and taking a few deep breaths as he turned back to his brandy tea and worked on unwinding the ball of stress in his chest to something manageable. Greyson waited, glad that Hagrid didn't shoo him off to see Dumbledore or go to his other class of the day.

While he waited for two o'clock to come, he helped Hagrid with his work and took in how homey Hagrid's hut was. It had a large fireplace with a huge cauldron hanging in it and a massive bed in the corner with a handmade patchwork quilt.

When Greyson heard the bell ring, signalling the end of his wait, Greyson felt himself smile a little, looking forward to seeing Harry. He sat waiting and waiting and waiting. It was almost three when Greyson finally gave up on the waiting.

Greyson just got up and made the long trek back to the Slytherin common room, wishing that Hogwarts had just been a horribly long dream...


	9. Chapter 9

Greyson didn't leave the Slytherin Common Rooms or his bed after he returned to it Friday afternoon. He didn't bother himself with his wizarding homework because what was the point? He didn't really care if it meant he didn't have Harry.

Monday morning Greyson managed to find the strength to crawl out of bed despite his stomach turning. He trudged to the Great Hall to hopefully eat breakfast but more likely sit there while the rest of the students ate.

"Greyson?" a small, familiar voice said behind him. Greyson sighed and turned around to see his brother standing there. "Can we talk?" Harry asked. Greyson nodded and followed Harry to just outside of the Great Hall. He didn't have the energy to smile or even show his brother he was fine this time. It didn't matter. Harry had already shown he'd be alright without Greyson around. So what was his purpose now?

"I wanted to tell you," Harry started before pausing, "thanks for standing up for me with Professor Snape. Not that it did much good. But I appreciated it all the same."

Despite his down mood, Greyson immediately found himself turning back into his old protective self when it came to Harry. "What do you mean?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. He felt that usual urge to go and take down whatever was bothering his brother and it was a relief. He may be needed again.

"After you left, he took away two points from Gryffindor, one for me not knowing anything, and then another because Neville practically destroyed the Potions class and gave himself boils," his little brother informed him. "Snape blamed me for not stopping Neville when I was worried about my own potion."

Greyson's could feel his face turning into a scowl, liking Snape even less than he did before. "I swear," He growled before letting out a sigh. "Why are you talking to me now Harry? You hadn't bothered all week."

Harry looked down this time. "Sorry… I was having such a hard time learning Hogwarts and remembering all the staircases and which doors were doors and which were walls. I thought I'd see you at Hagrid's but you weren't there."

Greyson blinked. "I was there all day. I waited till practically three for you to show up!"

Harry blinked and then let out a laugh. "I didn't get there until three," he said. "That's when Hagrid told me to show."

Greyson shook his head, his brother's presence soothing the hurt. "Hagrid..." He sighed, not sure how to sum up the gentle giant's mistake.

"But do you want to join me and Ron for breakfast?" Harry asked. "When he heard how Percy was treating you, he marched right up to him and gave him an earful." Greyson smiled at that, adding a few more points in Ron's favor.

"I would," Greyson agreed. When he got to the table, he noticed all of the Gryffindors staring at him as he sat down next to Harry.

One of the boys frowned. "You two look just alike," he said. Greyson looked up and summoned all of his energy, that was now returning with his brother near, to give the boy a smile. He wasn't going to make Hogwarts anymore difficult for Harry than it already was. He already had to deal with Snape, so he wasn't going to make his house hate him too.

"I am his brother, so I do hope we look like," Greyson said. That got heads turning.

"His brother?" one girl asked. "I didn't know he had a brother." More whispers about Harry having a brother went around and Greyson sighed. All anyone seemed to care about Harry's star status...

"That does explain potions class," Hermione hummed as she smeared marmalade on her toast. "I was assuming you were related."

"You wouldn't have had to assume if you would have paid attention on the train," Greyson told her, becoming irritated once more. But he let it go to focus on his food and enjoy being near his brother.

Of course, as the day went on, his teachers gave him an earful about not even touching his homework. Greyson accepted it but they each pulled him to the side and told him to have it finished by the end of the week, even strict Professor McGonagall. He didn't question it, but accepted it gratefully since it allowed him to make up for his mistakes. He had to do well. He couldn't just leave his brother here alone. From Monday to Wednesday he worked hard to catch up on all his neglected assignments along with whatever work he had been assigned.

That week, they started flying lessons out on the field with Madam Hooch. Greyson stood alongside the other first years of his house at 3:15 while he waited for Harry and his house to show up.

Soon enough the Gryffindors came running onto the field. "Thought you slow pokes were never going to show up," Greyson teased. Harry grinned, accepting the playful jab as Madam Hooch, the witch in charge of all things broom related, came over. He knew that even though she appeared just as strict as McGonagall she wasn't always stern and unwavering. He also found himself struck again by how gold her eyes were and it made him wonder if she was just a witch or something more.

"Alright, line up by your brooms," Madam Hooch barked. She walked up and down, reminding Greyson of a drill sergeant. Perhaps she had been in a wizard army of sorts?

Once all the students were there she looked at them. "Now, hold out your right hand and say, very firmly, 'up'." Soon a chorus of 'Up's rose all around him. Harry and Malfoy were the first two to get their brooms up on the first try, with Greyson in second, or third he supposed. Greyson had learned that to do anything magical you had to be confident and show you were in command, kind of like training a dog. Hermione seemed to be pleading with her broom stick as it just rolled around on the ground and Neville's just kind of sat there, neither of them were exactly sure of themselves when it came to flying it seemed.

Soon enough, everyone had a broom in hand and waited for Madam Hooch to blow her whistle to signal the time for them to kick hard from the ground and hover. Greyson was ready. But before Madam Hooch could get the word 'one' out, Neville was flying high into the air.

"Come down, Mr. Longbottom," Madam Hooch called.

"I- I'm trying," Neville cried out as he continued to fly higher and higher before he lost his balance and fell straight to the ground and Greyson turned his head away, wincing when he heard a sharp crack. Morbid curiosity got the better of him a second later and he glanced back to see that Neville's arm was hanging at a funny angle and that his wrist was limp. Ew.

"Alright, Longbottom, let's go," Madam Hooch said, collecting the tear soaked Neville. Greyson sighed and dropped the broom, just as Malfoy burst out laughing.

"Did you see the look on that lump's face?" Malfoy snickered.

"Shut up, Malfoy," one of the Gryffindors snapped.

"Oh? Never thought you were one for big fat cry babies," a Slytherin girl said. Greyson was about to make them all stop their aggravating bickering but before he could say anything Malfoy darted off to grab something from the grass.

"Look," Malfoy said with a hint of glee. "Longbottom dropped that stupid thing his grandmother sent him." He held the small little ball up in the light. Greyson met the glance Malfoy sent him with confusion.

Before he could tell them anything, he heard, "Give that here, Malfoy." Greyson blinked and stared at Harry. His mouth may have been hung open a little bit in surprise, he couldn't be sure.

Malfoy just gave Harry a smile, tilted tauntingly at the corners. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find," Malfoy smirked. "Perhaps in a tree."

"Give it here," Harry demanded, getting angrier now. Greyson wasn't sure if he could process what he was seeing and hearing. Harry was standing up to a bully and confronting him. What was going on?

Before they knew it, Malfoy had hopped on the broom and flown over to the tree, just hovering there. Once again, Harry surprised him by flying after Malfoy with the same skill, as if he'd been doing it for years. "He's going to get himself in so much trouble," Hermione complained.

He watched them carefully and saw Malfoy throw the ball and Harry dart off after it, catch it in midair, and safely come back down for a landing. Malfoy landed a few feet away a minute later, completely remorseless.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" He asked Malfoy once he saw Harry's feet touch the ground and he knew Harry was safe. "I know we're in Slytherin, but what you did was just plain mean and stupid!" Malfoy didn't answer him, didn't even look at him as he looked at all the other Slytherins. "No wonder everyone hates us if that's the way you all act." He went to storm off to the Common Room when Professor McGonagall came marching out.

"Mr. Potter!" She yelled. "Mr. Potter!" The cheering Gryffindors fell silent and Harry came out of the crowd, his face crestfallen. Greyson felt a pit in his stomach. Their time at Hogwarts was over. "Follow me, Mr. Potter." He sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day as he watched Harry he led away and made his way back to the common room to start packing.

Greyson sat at the Slytherin table for dinner while trying to figure out how to talk to Snape about going back home. He wasn't going to stay at Hogwarts without Harry. He definitely wasn't going to leave Harry alone with the Dursleys.

He sighed when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He growled and turned around, ready to fight whoever interrupted his brooding to see Harry standing there grinning.

"Why are you smiling?" Greyson asked, his eyes darting all over his brother to get some idea as to why he would be that happy over being expelled.

"McGonagall asked me to be the Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team!" Harry said excitedly.

Greyson smiled back through his confusion, not quite sure what a Seeker was, but glad that his brother was happy and fitting in and apparently not getting expelled. "That's great!" Greyson told him. "Good job." He knew for a fact that when it came to watching Harry's games, he'd be the only Slytherin rooting for the Gryffindors. Harry nodded and squeezed his hand gently before waving and heading off to sit with Ron. Greyson felt the weight lift off his shoulders before he felt another one settle on them.

Harry didn't have a broom. Sure, he could use the beat up and mangled school brooms, but his brother didn't deserve those. Harry needed a good broom to play Quidditch. He quickly finished eating before heading to the library.

He was dismayed to find out that the only copy of Quidditch through the Ages had been checked out. He frowned as he tried to think of some other way to figure out how to learn about Quidditch. Then it came to him. Malfoy. Malfoy had talked some nonsense about quidditch before. Greyson just didn't pay attention because Malfoy seemed to be full of hot air most of the time.

He made his way back to his room and saw Malfoy was in there, lounging on the bed filing his nails. "Malfoy, can you-... nevermind," Greyson cut himself off, shaking his head. This was stupid. You didn't ask someone who aggravated you for help. He could just ask Ron or Hagrid. He could even wait for the book to be returned to the library.

"Can I what?" Malfoy asked as Greyson busied himself with getting ready for bed.

"Don't worry about it," Greyson said. "Forget I said anything at all."

"Alright," Malfoy said.

Greyson pursed his lips. He was doing this for Harry. He could ask Malfoy for help for Harry. "Can you tell me about Quidditch?" he asked quickly.

"Can I what?" Malfoy repeated with a frown this time, sounding dubious now.

"Can you tell me about Quidditch?" Greyson asked again, but more slowly as he forced himself to calm down. Malfoy blinked in surprise before his face fixed itself into his usually haughty look.

"I suppose," he said before going on to explain the team members, roles, rules, and anything else relating to the sport.

"How important are brooms?" Greyson asked with his own frown.

Malfoy blinked. "They're as important as the balls themselves," he said as if he couldn't believe what Greyson was asking. "If a player doesn't have a good broom then he's practically useless. Especially if he's a seeker."

Greyson just sat there feeling his heart sink. How was Harry going to do well at Quidditch if he didn't have a broom good enough?

"What now?" Malfoy asked.

"Nothing," Greyson said, shaking his head. "How much does a new broom cost?"

"The Nimbus 2000 costs 300 galleons," Draco said. "It's the fastest broom on the market, and it's the best broom for a seeker."

Greyson's face fell. How would he ever be able to get Harry a new broom? Maybe he could see if Hagrid would loan him the money and let him work it off? "That sucks… Thanks though… for helping," Greyson mumbled as he stripped down to his boxer briefs for bed, not really caring much for pajamas.

He saw Malfoy turning pink and frowned. What the hell had him so embarrassed? "Don't mention it," Malfoy said after a weird pause. Greyson was too tired to question it so he just nodded and turned out the light.


	10. Chapter 10

Greyson laid awake in his bed. It was morning and he didn't want to have to face the world today. He honestly had no idea what the day held for him, and a single thought seemed to run circles in his mind. _What if Harry forgot?_ He groaned, trying to chase those traitorous thoughts away.

"What's your problem?" Malfoy asked, somehow sounding annoyed and disinterested at the same time.

"Nothing," Greyson lied. "Just tired."

Malfoy just rolled his eyes and and set about doing his very long dressing ritual. Greyson sighed and threw back the covers. He got up and threw on his clothes, looking very rumpled but not caring in the least. He refused to spend an entire hour getting ready like Malfoy, even on his best days.

With a mumbled goodbye to his roommate, Greyson headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast and didn't eat much. Though, he reasoned, at least he was eating more regularly now that his worry for Harry had subsided, save for that nagging notion of Harry not having a proper broom for Quidditch. However, today wasn't just any school day, but a little part of him worried no one would remember.

He managed to eat some eggs by the time mail came. His eyes widened when Atrox dropped a giant thing that fell on his plate sending eggs everywhere, getting many shouts from the Slytherins who were hit with said egg. Greyson couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of him at their enraged expressions and let them glare at him to their heart's content, turning back to his package.

He blinked as _growling_ seemed to come _from_ the package. He shook his head, bewildered, and grabbed the tag.

_Know you like reading_

_Happy Birthday_

_-Hagrid_

Greyson grinned and tore open the package. He sat there stunned as the growling coming from his birthday present picked up considerably. Hagrid had given him a very angry book in a cage. Huh.

"What the bloody hell?" Greyson said, staring at it. He went to reach for it, curiosity and excitement getting the best of him**, **only to jerk his hand back when it tried to bite him.

"Who would buy you a book that would eat you?" Malfoy's voice came from behind him, disgust dripping from his words as he got a good look at the book's beady black eyes and sharp yellow teeth.

"Someone who remembered my birthday," Greyson drawled as he got up, holding the very angry book's cage at arm's length. He wasn't in the mood for smashed eggs for breakfast and he just _had_ to know how he was supposed to read this book. He would unlock its secrets and enjoy every minute of it.

"Hagrid!" he hollered as he got near. "How do I get this bloody book not to bite me?"

"What do ya' mean?" Hagrid grumbled as Greyson finished approaching. "Didn't ya' stroke it's spine?"

"What? There weren't any instructions, were there? Did I miss them?" Greyson shot off his questions as he set the cage down, eager to learn more. He watched intently as Hagrid held out an apple to the book and the book opened its maw wide to happily eat it. It purred as Hagrid stroked its spine, falling open with a particularly loud and satisfied rumble.

"Just make sure yeh feed it red things," Hagrid told him. "Gets angry if it eats anything but red."

Greyson nodded and made a mental note to invest in plenty of crayons for his new book. "Where did you even find this book?"

"Found this one from a traveler at the Cauldron," Hagrid told him, lips curling into that familiar warm smile. "Read it an' thought you might like your own since yeh're always readin."

Greyson's face broke into a smile, eyes prickling. _No. I will not cry. Not again. I'm stronger than that and I'll start showing everyone here. I'll make Hagrid and Harry proud of me._ "Thanks, Hagrid," he gushed, satisfied that the happiness trembling in his chest didn't make it into his voice. He wrapped his arms the best he could around Hagrid's much larger form as the bell started to ring, signaling the end of breakfast. It took more effort than it should have to let go. He'd miss this comfort for the rest of the day. "I'll see you after classes," Greyson whispered to him, afraid speaking any louder would break the moment. He made sure to turn and wave before leaving the hall, just to see that smile one more time.

Greyson had been spending his days after Harry made the Quidditch team visiting Hagrid and doing a lot of reading in his spare time. He still visited with his brother to make sure he was okay, but he didn't worry as much. He could see Harry was getting braver and able to stand up for himself. He didn't need Greyson as much. The thought was as depressing as it was a relief.

Greyson still didn't get along with most of the Slytherins, but he was sorta developing a friendship with Malfoy. If friendship meant he didn't want to punch Malfoy whenever he made an arrogant remark or that he didn't roll his eyes everytime Malfoy said the word pure blood.

The good thing was that he didn't have a full day of classes as Halloween was apparently a big holiday at Hogwarts. They were even having a Halloween feast at five to allow for plenty of time after dinner for fun.

He tossed Harry a smile when he saw him there, and was relieved that Harry at least returned it today. Between classes and what not, he wasn't able to talk to Harry. After the feast however, he'd have time to see his brother. It was enough to have him almost peaceful as he looked at the food for the night.

Greyson always thought it was fitting that he was born on Halloween since he always enjoyed ghosts and goblins and scary stories. He had the book _Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark _and he always read it well into the night for his birthday. It was his own birthday tradition.

He sat there picking at his food, somewhat enjoying it. He was more eager to see Harry and get to his room to read his book like he did every year than to eat some food. But to get to those things he'd have to force down a couple of bites.

Halfway through the feast Quirrell came in. "Tr-Troll in the Dungeon!" he yelled. Greyson stood up and stared as everyone around him started to panic.

"Silence!" Dumbledore yelled. "Prefects, take your houses back to the common rooms." Greyson frowned. He wasn't going to go to his room. The troll was down there according to Quirrell... unless... it wasn't.

In the confusion, it was easy to sneak behind him and follow him around, keeping to the shadows and tracking him suspiciously as Quirrell seemed to head up… stairs? _When did those get there?_ Greyson frowned as they headed to the third floor.

"What are you doing?" He heard a harsh whisper in his ear and practically jumped out of his skin.

He turned quickly, excuses on his tongue, and relaxed to see Malfoy behind him. "I'm following Quirrell," He whispered. "Don't you think it's odd that Dumbledore would send us back to our rooms when the troll is lurking right near them? We would be smashed to bits."

Malfoy just had that pinched look on his face like he had been sucking on a lemon. "So why are we on the third floor? It's forbidden."

Greyson blinked slowly, frowning as he tried to remember hearing such a rule. "What? Since when?"

"Since the beginning of the year," Malfoy told him with an eye roll. "Dumbledore said so at the feast."

Greyson blinked slowly again and then nodded. He ignored how Malfoy only looked more annoyed at his lack of response. At least he couldn't give him another lecture on daydreaming. It was no wonder he hadn't known the rule, he hadn't exactly been listening during the feast. "Quirrel is up to no good," he said and watched as the man in question slipped behind a door. They looked around and saw Snape following Quirrel into the door.

"What is Professor Snape doing?" Greyson asked, suspicion flaring higher.

"I don't know, but we should head back to our rooms," Malfoy said and Greyson had to reluctantly agree. He couldn't risk getting in trouble with Snape again. At least not yet. Making a note to check out that door on the third floor at a later date, they turned and hurriedly walked away as quietly as possible.

They snuck into the room as the roll call began and luckily no one seemed to realize they were gone so they were free to enjoy the remainder of the Halloween feast.

Greyson ate a small bit more, but had his mind more centered on the forbidden floor and what Quirrell was trying to accomplish with his troll bit. He sighed and decided he'd look into it tomorrow when he could go to the library to research it. Nothing he could do now. He took a few more petulant bites, trying not to let the curiosity eat him alive.

It wasn't until he was in bed later that night and listening to Malfoy's light snores that a thought struck him. Harry hadn't wished him a happy birthday or anything of the sort... The thought stung sharply and Greyson gasped as his hand unconsciously came to pet at his chest, as though he could soothe the hurt from the outside. He refused to get upset again over Harry and chased the treacherous thoughts away with a bone-deep sigh. _He probably just forgot in the confusion. Of course that's it. Stupid troll._

While Greyson was eating breakfast the next morning, Harry came up to him. "After classes, will you join me in the Library?" He asked, sitting next to him, much to the detest of the other Slytherins. Harry seemed to not even hear their displeased murmurs and swishing robes as they physically turned away from him in their seats.

"Of course," Greyson replied blankly, still smarting from yesterday. "What for?"

"I need some help on my report for Professor Binns," Harry said. Greyson nodded absently, and struggled to not let the conversation drop off so soon.

"I've already finished mine," he told him, despite the hurt settling anew in his chest despite his best efforts at not caring. "So it should be easy enough."

"Thanks," Harry grinned and waved easily as he headed back to his friends. Greyson sighed and picked at his breakfast. At least while he was helping Harry, he could try and do research on the third floor. That's the kind of distraction he would need to not snap at his brother. He would forgive Harry of course, as he always did, but he was determined to keep his hurt close to his chest for at least a little while. It would take a while to soothe this time.

Classes went by dreadfully slow in Greyson's opinion. It probably had to do with the fact he just wanted it all to end. Potions went by decently, Neville and Seamus managed to mess up their potion again, but nowhere near as bad as the first incident. But he did note that Professor Snape was limping. What had happened behind that locked door with Quirrell?

His Herbology class was entertaining as they learned about Molly and Dittany, both herbs used for healing generally. Turns out they had some very interesting side effects if prepared incorrectly. If Dittany was eaten cooked instead of raw, it would cause you to be colored in purple stripes, much like a zebra or tiger. Francis had volunteered to taste the stewed Dittany and everyone turned their heads as Greyson felt the laughter bubble out of him. Moly on the other hand, if you ate it fresh instead of dried, it caused bright hair to grow all over your body as found out by Susan, causing Greyson to laugh a little harder.

After lunch, he met up with Harry outside of the Great Hall to head to the library as they agreed. "Oh, did you hear?" Harry asked excitedly.

"Hear what?" Greyson inquired, wondering how his brother could be so carefree with a troll running around.

"Ron and I managed to take down the Mountain Troll," he answered casually, a grin blooming on his face. Greyson felt his face go blank as he processed those words.

"It was in the dungeons?" He stopped in his tracks, turning to his brother, heart hammering in his chest. "And why would you go after it? Harry, you could have been killed!" He threw his arms up and immediately started inspecting Harry for wounds like a mother hen, hands shaking.

Harry shook his head, seeming amused by Greyson's worry. "It was in the girl's bathroom."

Greyson stopped again and looked back at Harry. "Why on earth were you in the girl's bathroom?" he asked. "You're a boy!"

"Ron and I went to go get Hermione," he clarified. "She didn't know about the troll and we wanted to make sure she was safe." Greyson searched his face intently, but found no trace of a lie. Well, he was glad to know his brother wasn't a peeping tom, at least. He didn't even know how he'd start a conversation addressing that.

"Just be careful Harry," he pleaded, shaking his head. "I don't need you getting yourself killed." Harry just smiled, not seeming to take any of this as seriously as he should.

"Of course," he said and they continued their way to the library once Greyson was finally satisfied Harry didn't have more than a few scrapes on him.

When they walked in, they were immediately showered in confetti. "SURPRISE!" a handful of people called out, all of which were Gryffindors and Hagrid, and most of which were Weasleys. Greyson was stunned as he took in the sight of balloons and a banner that said 'Happy Birthday Greyson'. The relief took his breath away.

"What the..." Greyson choked out finally, not exactly believing what he was seeing despite having the evidence right in front of him.

"It's a birthday party," Harry clarified as he put a cardboard hat on Greyson. "_Your_ birthday party." He opened his mouth to ask where Malfoy was, but then closed it. It wasn't like they were truly friends of any sort. Surely he would know for sure if they were. He'd never had a friend that was his own age except for Harry, but he's sure he would probably know.

He smiled after a few more moments and finally settled on a simple, "Thanks.". He took in the people smiling at him and noted that there were only five people there; the Weasley twins, Ron, Hermione and Hagrid.

A spot of bright color in the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned to see a small collection of presents. "How did you do this?" he asked shakily, noticing the librarian in the back and surprised that they were not being shushed for being too loud.

"I asked Madam Pince about it for you," Harry explained. "We were supposed to do it after the feast, but since the troll happened, she let us do it after classes today." Greyson felt his body moving before he could fully think and wrapped Harry in a tight hug.

"You're the best brother I could ask for," Greyson whispered to him, his heart ready to burst with joy. He took a few deep breaths to get his smile back under control, the feeling of his cheeks so stretched an unfamiliar but not wholly unwelcome sensation. When he released his brother with a gentle squeeze that he hoped would help get the depth of his appreciation across, Fred spoke up.

"Well, come on, aren't you going to blow out your candles?" he asked, beckoning at the cake he hadn't even noticed.

"And make a wish?" George piped up from the side as Greyson stared at the chocolate cake that looked much like the one Harry had received for his birthday. Greyson nodded jerkily as they lit the candles and sang him 'Happy Birthday'.

He blew out the candles and enjoyed eating the cake. He opened his other gifts and saw that Harry had gotten him a bag of penny sweets ("Hermione had her parents buy it," Harry explained.), a book called _Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes_ from Hermione, Ron got him some parchment and quills, the twins got him a thing of magic ink that appears when you said a certain spell, and there was a small gift in the center that smelled of cabbage, a chocolate bar from Mrs. Figg. Greyson smiled, uncaring of who saw it and unable to remember a happier birthday.


	11. Chapter 11

As they got further into November the days got colder, covering the ground in frost. He didn't get much time to spend with Harry what with him having extra quidditch matches and homework, though between him and Hermione, Harry had plenty of help on all of the assignments. Though when Harry was practicing, he did go visit Hagrid. Greyson enjoyed hearing the grass crunch under foot when he had to cross the grounds to get to Hagrid's hut.

Greyson did not let any of that make him forget about the room Professor and Quirrell went in on Halloween. The situation continued to fit oddly in his mind, bugging him like a desk with one leg not as long as the others. He tried to remember how he went about it, but honestly, it was rather confusing. It happened so quickly parts were blurred in his mind. He shook his head clear as he thought on it and then closed his eyes.

He took some deep breaths, allowing his mind to quiet and sharpen. He thought back to that day, fitting it into his mental layout of Hogwarts. He retraced his steps slowly, managing to find his way through the maze that was Hogwarts. He wanted to have a talk with the school's founders.

The third floor corridor was old and dusty, unlike most of the school. He saw the tall columns and noted that Filch didn't bother cleaning this part of the school very much if the cobwebs and thin coating of dust was any indication. He privately hoped that Peeves wouldn't show up, as he would ruin Greyson's investigation almost immediately.

Peeves was horribly annoying and was a prankster of the worst. Actually, he wasn't really a prankster as he was more of a menace. He loved causing destruction to the school by throwing books, scraping nails down the chalk boards, or just aiming spit balls at you. The only one who could even kind of control him was the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin House ghost.

He approached the wooden door and studied it. It was rather simple, reinforced with wrought iron on the top and bottom. He reached for the round knob, that looked dark and grimy. He made a face. It felt exactly as it looked. Wonderful. When he went to turn it, it was locked.

Pulling out his wand he whispered, "Alohomora," and heard the click of the lock. He carefully opened it, well aware of Snape's limping the day after the troll attack.

He didn't hear anything immediately to cause him to turn back, so he poked his head around the door and felt his heart leap into his throat. In front of him was the most monstrous dog he had ever seen, if dog was still the right term for the three headed creature in front of him, whose faces resembled a black pitbull. The giant beast was growling at him, dropping giant gobs of drool onto the stone floors.

Greyson made sure not to move as he took in the room that the dog was in. He took slow and even breaths. Some of the monsters from his books could smell fear. He wouldn't make that mistake here. Hopefully. From what he could tell, the room was not much outside of the ordinary. It seemed to truly just be a plain room. As his eyes glanced across the stone floor, he noticed a weird pattern on the floor. _What is that? _Before he could think of getting closer, he heard the unmistakable sound of Peeves. His cackle was unmistakable. He couldn't keep his heart calm this time. He couldn't afford to be caught in here if he was going to figure out what was going on.

The dog beast apparently had no love for Peeves either as it let out a deafening bark and an even more ferocious growl. Greyson quickly shut the door and hurried out of there before Peeves could spot him. Running down the hall as quickly but as quietly as he could, he stopped behind a pillar for a few moments to catch his breath and listen for footsteps.

As soon as he was sure the coast was clear, he let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He was most definitely going to visit the library next to figure out what that dog beast really was.

It was the morning of Harry's first Quidditch match and they were all sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. "You'll do great Harry," He assured his brother. "After all, our father was a great seeker." Harry just nodded and Greyson noted that just made him more nervous. _Guess that was the wrong thing to say. Whoops._

"Greyson's right Harry," Hermione chimed in. "You're a natural after all. And you read _Quidditch Through the Ages_."

"You have that book?" Greyson asked. "Can I borrow it? I tried finding it in the library but it was checked out."

"Of course," she looked thrilled to have a conversation partner soon, her chest puffing out in excitement. "Have you read _Hogwarts: A History_?"

Greyson shook his head. "No, but I did buy _Werewolves, an Incurable Disease_. Oh and I got this book called, _History of Wizarding Families_. It just showed up on my bed, wrapped up with a tag for me."

"Oh, can I read it?" she asked, leaning forward unconsciously.

"Sure," Greyson nodded. "I've already read it twice."

"Bloody hell," Ron breathed. "I swear, you two are having a book club right before Harry's game." Being the cause of his exasperation was as fun as ever.

"Well, it's not like Harry's nerves are getting any better," Greyson smirked, trying to lighten the mood. "Besides, he'll be fine once he's on his broom..." Greyson trailed off remembering Harry didn't _have _a broom. He sighed and felt that knot of nerves show up again. Just then the owls swooped in like they did every morning and they all jumped in surprise when a long, wrapped package landed on the table in front of them. It looked like… a broom? A very badly wrapped broom at that.

They all stared at it for a moment before Harry and Ron tensed, sharing a look, and took off with a quick "Malfoy!" It took another moment before Greyson heard the voice that had scared them off.

Malfoy's distinctive voice only got louder as he stepped into the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall was in tow. Great. "Look, Professor," he sneers as he sees the package. "Potter has a broom." Greyson felt his eyebrow twitching in annoyance, but more than that, his mind was racing with suspicion. He was acting even more over the top than he usually did, his voice trying to reach all corners of the Great Hall.

"Mr. Malfoy. I swear," McGonagall sighed. "If you come to tell me another tale of a student breaking the rules and it isn't happening, I'm going to take ten points from Slytherin for wasting my time." Then, with a whirl of her robes, she was gone in a cloud of dark mist. She really didn't get enough credit for how dramatic she could be.

"Well, that was certainly weird," Hermione hummed after seeing Malfoy stomp away with his arms crossed angrily.

Greyson just furrowed his brow for a moment, piecing the situation together. "You don't think...?"

Her eyes widened as she made the same connection Greyson had made. "Malfoy must have gotten Harry that package!" she exclaimed.

Greyson nodded. "But why would he try and get Harry in trouble with it?" Hermione only shrugged in response.

"I don't know, it is Malfoy after all," she gestured at the direction he had left, as if that was all the explanation needed, and took another bite of her eggs. "Maybe he sent it to try and get Harry expelled. He was awfully mad when he learned that Harry was still here after the broom flying lesson. Him and Harry even had a duel."

"What?" Greyson bit out slowly from behind clenched teeth, his eyes narrowing. "When was this? How did they not get in trouble? Why would they do something so recklessly stupid in the first place?" He was done with Harry conveniently not telling him things. They would have a talk. Soon. When had his brother started trying so hard to hide things from him?

"Honestly, not much," she sniffed. "They were _very_ stupid to have even gone. I tried to stop them, but they wouldn't listen to reason. They were very insistent on going. They even got Neville mixed up in that whole mess."

"What happened, Hermione?" Greyson repeated more intently, not wanting to hear her complain about Harry and Ron's already obvious stupidity.

"Oh, right, well, we went to the trophy room and waited for a few minutes for Malfoy to show, but instead it was Filch and Mrs. Norris. After that we just made sure we got to our rooms before we could get caught." Greyson nodded, relieved that there hadn't actually been a duel. But he still was horribly upset that Harry had tried to do one in the first place. They'd still be having a talk, that was for sure.

Outside, houses joined in the enormous stands to see the first Quidditch match of the season. Greyson headed off to the Slytherin section and moved to sit by Malfoy. "How did you know Harry got a broom?" Greyson asked him casually as the players flew out onto the field. No use getting Malfoy's hackles raised if he wanted answers, after all.

"What do you mean?" Malfoy asked. "It was obviously a broom, didn't you see how it was wrapped?"

"Right," Greyson said, a small smirk forming at the idea of Malfoy thinking him to be so naive. Honestly, he should know better by now. Then he saw his brother and yelled out loud. "GO HARRY!" That caused a lot of Slytherins to give him disgusted looks, though a couple of girls giggled for some reason.

"You shouldn't cheer for him," Malfoy said with an eye roll. The exasperation in his voice said he wasn't going to put much effort into insisting, though. "He's a Gryffindor. You should be cheering for Slytherin."

Greyson shrugged. "I'll cheer for both," he replied easily, wanting Gryffindor to win more just for his brother to be the hero for his house, which had apparently made a lovely banner claiming 'Potter for President' in brightly changing colors. He felt his face give way to a ridiculously proud grin after noticing it, but he couldn't care less at this moment. Harry's house seemed to love him, and Greyson couldn't be happier.

For the most part, Harry just hovered high above the game, appearing as just a speck in the sky, watching. Greyson smiled at his brother's excitement when he did a loop in the air after one of the chasers scored a goal.

He could grasp what was going on by Lee Jordan, a Gryffindor Second Year and best friend of the Weasley twins, commentating on the whole thing, which was fortunate as he didn't quite understand the sport despite Malfoy explaining the whole game to him when he had asked.

Though he did nearly have a heart attack as one of the Slytherin players slammed into Harry, nearly knocking him off his broom when he had gone after the Snitch. A small cry had ripped itself from his throat, and he almost lunged to his feet. Malfoy's hand found his, squeezing.

"Relax, Potter is fine. Look." Malfoy insisted, pointing out to the field. Greyson's head snapped around to follow his pointing. His brother was still on his broom, not falling to his death. All his breath left him at once and Malfoy's hand seemed to jerk in his grip, retreating as if burned. Greyson wasn't taking his eyes off his brother anymore if he could, though, so he whispered his thanks to Malfoy and tried to ignore how shaky his voice sounded. Once again, he was not a big fan of his fellow Slytherins for being so underhanded and cruel.

He heard a gasp from Jordan and he heard a mention of Harry's name through the static in his ears, causing Greyson to stare harder at the speck that was his brother and watched with a dry mouth as the broom jerked left and right and up and down, trying to buck his brother off. "Broom's don't do that, right?" he asked Malfoy, keeping his eyes glued to Harry.

"No," Malfoy told him and Greyson tried to figure out who was doing it and why. Why would anyone want to harm Harry? He hadn't harmed anyone and didn't seem to have any enemies that had tried to go as far as hurting him. And it wasn't Malfoy, he was right beside him and wasn't moving. He felt his stomach lurch when Harry had been bucked off and was holding onto his broom with one hand, the only thing keeping him from falling to the ground.

"Jinxes!" Greyson exclaimed in a rush.

"What?" Malfoy snapped, frowning. He seemed on edge as well, even if he tried to hide it.

"Harry's broom is being jinxed, it's the only explanation," he insisted, coming up with no other options even as his mind races. "But who the hell would do it?" He didn't think he'd have much time, though the Weasley twins were circling below Harry in case he fell to catch him. The Weasleys were a blessing.

No one was really paying attention to the game as the Slytherin chasers continued to score points as everyone focused on Harry. Then he saw Quirrell. He was just staring, his face rather intense and focused, something he'd never seen from the bumbling professor aside from Halloween. Quirrell? He didn't have enough time to second guess himself. Whatever the consequences of being wrong might be, he'd take them… IF he was wrong. "I'll be right back," he yelled to Malfoy as he darted off.

He made his way under the stands and ran into Hermione. "What are you doing here?" he hissed at her. She ignored him as she used her wand to light Snape's robes on fire. He looked and saw Harry's broom had stopped jerking, meaning Quirrell had released his attention from Harry. He'd question Hermione after the match. For now he was just grateful.

He made his way back to his seat and was relieved to see Harry still on his broom. "Where'd you go?" Malfoy asked quietly.

"It's not important," he tried to reassure him. "I'll tell you later. At least Harry's safe."

"Yeah, though you missed it. Snape's robes caught fire," he snickered, but quickly caught himself. His face smoothed back out into that serious mask Greyson was starting to recognize. "Quirrell looked like he was about to wet himself." He let out a laugh at that despite himself, and Greyson felt his own answering laugh bubbling up now that relief was fully washing through him.

He watched as Harry started streaking towards the ground, holding his hand over his mouth. Greyson stampeded his way to the front of the stands to look at his brother. Instead of vomit, Harry was grinning ear to ear, holding a bright and shiny little golden ball. He cheered for Harry, letting out a giant whoop of excitement, the only Slytherin to do so, causing a lot of disgusted looks to be thrown his way. Again. But he didn't care. He hoped their faces got stuck that way. His brother had won the game!


	12. Chapter 12

Greyson joined Harry, Ron, and Hermione back at Hagrid's hut after the game for rock cakes and tea. They looked as unappetizing as ever, dark brown and craggy like actual rocks, but Greyson found he actually enjoyed the treat if he let them soak up some of his tea to both sweeten and soften the teeth-breaking cakes.

"Hermione, what were you doing under the stands anyway?" Greyson inquired as he sipped on his chamomile and lemongrass tea, remembering how much better it tasted with the brandy in it.

"I was stopping Snape from jinxing Harry's broom," she replied, as if everyone should know exactly what she's talking about.

"Snape was doing it?" Harry asked before shaking his head. "I knew he was up to no good. He was even trying to get past that three headed dog on Halloween."

Greyson looked at him sharply. "How do you know about the Cerberus?"

"Well... I..." Harry stuttered, looking away and focusing on Hermione, seeming to beg with his eyes for rescue.

"We ended up there the night of Malfoy's duel," she explained. Her hair bounced as she turned her body away from everyone, physically walling herself off from any oncoming drama.

"Wait, how did you know?" Ron piped up from onside Hermione, giving Greyson a suspicious look.

"I was trying to figure out why Quirrell was directing everyone towards the dungeons," Greyson told them, squaring his shoulders under their stares. "I followed him to the third floor and I saw Snape following him. I went and looked for the third floor door later on to see why Snape was limping after Halloween." But then he remembered everything Harry had been keeping from him. "But my question is why are you being so reckless and not telling me anything about midnight duels and encountering three headed dogs?" He bit out. The sting from earlier was back full force. Harry was actively hiding things from him. Was he not trustworthy? Not supportive enough? Was he suffocating him? Why did everyone else know about his little brother's problems and not him?

"It's not like you're being safe," Harry snapped back. "And besides, you were doing the same thing as me. You even went to the third floor on _purpose_. You even went to that room with the giant dog on _purpose_."

"But I don't go on midnight runs, gallivanting all around Hogwarts to fight duels like an imbecile," Greyson's voice shook as he tried to keep his voice from rising. They almost never raised their voices at each other, but their relationship changing was frightening. More frightening than that was that Harry didn't seem to care. Not like Greyson did. "And you don't even know anything about wizard duels. Not to mention you've become nothing but hot headed when it comes to Malfoy."

"Oh, like you didn't punch him on the train because he upset you," Harry scowled. The expression looks wrong on his normally calm and carefree face, and it just made Greyson's blood burn hotter with anger. "Besides, you _always_ got into fights with the Dursleys, especially Dudley. Every time I turned around you were provoking them and getting locked in the cupboard with no dinner."

"To keep you safe," Greyson growled. "Did it ever occur to you that I didn't actually care about me? That all I ever worried about was how _you_ were doing? If _you_ were safe? I wouldn't have even come to this miserable school if you hadn't wanted to. I was even prepared to leave the day I thought you were going to get expelled because I wasn't going to leave you defenseless at the Dursleys and let Dudley smack you with that ridiculous excuse for discipline known as a Smelting Stick."

"I never asked you to," Harry was yelling now, arms thrown in the air. "I never asked you to baby me and protect me from everything. You chose to, you-"

"Well, maybe I shouldn't have," Greyson cut him off, the silence deafening following those monotone words. "Maybe I should just stop caring and let you go get yourself killed on jinxed brooms and three headed dogs. Because if you don't care if you live or die, then why should I?" No one moved or said anything, the air felt heavy, so heavy Greyson could hardly breathe.

Finally he tore his eyes away from Harry and looked at Hagrid. "Thanks for the tea and cakes," He said softly. Bowing politely, he clasped his shaking hands in front of his body. Why were his hands even shaking? He felt numb. It was almost a relief. Emotions seemed too difficult to deal with right now. "I'll see you later Hagrid." Before he could second guess himself, he walked out and shut the door behind him quietly.

Greyson went about his business for the next week or so and didn't let himself worry about Harry. He didn't attend any more of the Quidditch games because he wasn't worried about his brother. He didn't care if Harry failed that History test they had on the Gargoyle War of 584 or if he managed to complete his paper on transfiguration of animals and what could happen if they were done wrong. He didn't even lose sleep on if Harry was going to be in trouble with Snape for mixing up ashitaba and ashwagandha, herbs that sounded alike but were from completely different countries. Every time feelings tried to overwhelm him, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply until he felt as calm as a placid lake right again. Harry didn't need or want him. That was fine. He would be fine.

Instead he threw all his focus into learning about Fluffy, the name Hagrid gave the Cerberus. He even started to visit Fluffy about once a day to acclimate the giant dog to his presence. Who could resist such a perfect dog? He was very unlike Fang, the large black and wrinkly dog that lived in Hagrid's hut with him. Fluffy was even beginning to warm up to Greyson and had stopped growling every time he saw him. That might be the best accomplishment of his life. He couldn't wait to see how Fluffy would continue to open up with time. Imagining all he could learn from a three-headed dog was enough to have him vibrating with excitement for days.

Soon it was almost time for the Christmas holidays and Greyson tried figuring out what to get Harry for Christmas. "I'm not buying him anything," he chastised himself as he sat in the great hall for lunch. "I don't care about him." He felt like this was the thousandth time he told himself to stop worrying about his brother and tried to pretend like Harry wasn't the entire world to him.

"Greyson," he heard a small and familiar voice mumble behind him. He felt his body attempt to immediately twist toward his brother, but managed to stop himself from jumping up and hugging Harry because he did _not_ care about his brother.

"What?" he asked without turning around, practiced disinterest coloring his voice.

He heard a sigh and saw Harry sit down beside him out of the corner of his eye. "Will you look at me?" Harry tried. "Please?"

Greyson huffed but did turn to look at his brother after a second's hesitation. "What do you want Harry?"

"I wanted to apologize," he admitted in a small voice, holding his gaze so earnestly it was hard to keep a stoic face. "I shouldn't have been trying to keep things from you... I just... you can be a bit much sometimes."

"A bit much?" Greyson repeated, crossing his arms protectively across his front before he could stop himself.

"Yes, a bit much," Harry whispered, keeping his voice low. "You act like I can't do anything by myself. If I would have told you about the duel with Malfoy, you wouldn't have let me go or you would have tried to take my place in it, like you always do."

"I would not," Greyson countered, even though he knew Harry was right and the look Harry gave him was calling him out on it as well. "Alright, fine. Perhaps I am a bit overprotective... at times..." Harry's look intensified and he sighed. "Okay... a lot of the time..."

"I just want to be able to tell you about things without you getting worried all the time. Like Fred and George with Ron," Harry told him. "Instead, you're more like a Percy."

Greyson frowned at that. Rude. "Fine, I see your point," he grudgingly agreed, not wanting to be anything like that rule following brown nosed entitled weasel any day. "Well, why don't we work together on the whole mystery thing?" Maybe this would work better for him and Harry instead of fighting each other at every turn.

Harry nodded, face lighting up and relief practically radiating off of him at the offer. "We've been doing research in the library," He stood up and Greyson followed suit.

"Research on what?"

"Nicholas Flamel."

"Who?"

"Nicholas Flamel has something to do with whatever Fluffy is guarding and Snape is after," Harry explained.

"I'm telling you, it's not Snape," Greyson said shaking his head. "And if it is, he's working _with_ Quirrell. Because when your broom was jinxed, he was very focused and was not jumping at his own shadow."

Harry frowned. "But Quirrell is so kind," he said.

"And so can Dudley when he wants something," Greyson replied with an eyeroll. "Because Halloween made no sense. Why would Quirrell talk about trolls in the dungeon and Dumbledore send all of Slytherin right where the troll is knowing none of the students are fully equipped to handle one?"

Harry frowned as he thought about it. "I suppose you're right," he conceded. "But I do think Snape is in on it. He was complaining to Filch about how he couldn't pay attention to all three heads at the same time."

"Alright, then we'll keep an eye on both Snape and Quirrell," Greyson decided, holding Harry's eye as he waited for him to nod his agreement. "If either are up to no good, then at least we'll know." Seeing his brother's nod, he felt his smile come naturally for the first time in over a week. Harry returned it easily, and it felt like they were a team again. Greyson hoped Snape and Quirell were ready; it wouldn't be much fun if this mystery was too easy.

Soon enough they had their last class before the Christmas holidays. Greyson was working with Malfoy while Harry, Ron, and Hermione were on the other side of the room with the other Gryffindors.

"I honestly feel sorry for those who can't go home for Christmas just because they aren't wanted," Malfoy drawled loudly, looking towards Harry.

"Malfoy, you should pay more attention to our potion instead of spewing a bunch of hot air," Greyson singsonged in the most annoying way possible, the words going in one ear and out the other. It was like his brain could tell now when Malfoy was saying something that wasn't worth truly responding to. "You added powdered dung beetle in it, instead of crushed millipede legs." Their potion started turning a violent green color instead of the pleasant magenta it was supposed to be. Greyson hummed and added a bit of grated acacia root to it, causing it to become magenta again. "You're lucky I read how to fix that."

"Good job, Potter," Snape droned as he pulled up alongside their work station. He looked down his pointed nose at their experiment and seemed as satisfied as Snape ever was. Now that Greyson was attempting to figure out what was going on, he was making sure to be a model student. He couldn't have Snape keeping an eye on him after all. "Ten points for Slytherin." Greyson smirked at Malfoy, glad he one upped him and got some points for his house to boot. "You're lucky, Malfoy, that Potter was able to correct your mistake." Malfoy's head ducked in apology, and their professor continued his measured steps toward the other workstations.

After class, the four of them made their way out of the dungeons and towards the library to research more on Nicholas Flamel. Instead they were stopped by a massive fir tree that appeared to be being held up by two floating hands and two giant feet as far as Greyson could tell. The fact that he only felt curiosity and immediately felt his feet pull him to the front of the group should have been frightening, but he couldn't convince himself to miss the little bit of self-preservation he once had. He felt a twinge of disappointment that it was Hagrid carrying the tree, and not a tree that had managed to grow limbs or some other bizarre phenomena. That was quickly overridden by his happiness at seeing Hagrid, so he didn't dwell on it.

"Hello Hagrid," Ron said cheerfully, not missing a beat.

Hagrid's massive head popped up from behind the tree. "'Ello, boys. And Hermione," His face split into a warm and easy grin and it only got wider as his eyes darted between the brothers. "Glad to see you two made up."

"Yeah," Greyson mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "What are you up to anyway, Hagrid?"

"Can you lot move?" Malfoy drawled, causing Greyson to roll his eyes and not even attempt to move. Then his blue eyes landed on Ron and he seemed more offended over nothing than he already had been. "What are you doing Weasley? Practicing to be a gamekeeper for extra money? That hut must be a mansion compared to what you're used to." Greyson stepped back as he realized Ron was diving for Malfoy, knocking him to the ground, getting in one good hit before Snape showed up.

"Five points from Gryffindor," Snape's monotonous and chilling tone stopped Ron in his tracks. "No fighting, Weasley." Ron's head seemed to nod like a bobblehead under Snape's intense and yet disinterested stare.

"Not his fault," Hagrid piped up. "He was insultin' 'is family."

"It doesn't matter," Snape shooed everyone out of his way as he continued walking down the hallway. "Fighting is against the rules. He's lucky I don't make it ten." Malfoy's goons had managed to catch up at that point and they followed Malfoy as he walked after Snape, sneering at everyone as they shoved their own way through. Greyson noticed that Malfoy didn't quite shove him, however. He just turned his nose up, sneering, and maintained eye contact as he brushed past him.

"I swear," Greyson said, shaking his head. "I never know what to think about Malfoy." He dutifully ignored the others' stares at his almost fond tone.

"Well, I hate him and Snape," Harry sniffed. "I wish I could jinx them."

"I agree," Ron told them, as if they didn't already know his opinion on anything Slytherin related that didn't include Greyson.

"Well, why don't you four come and see the Great Hall?" Hagrid suggested as he continued carrying in the giant fir tree. They followed Hagrid along and took in how festive the Great Hall looked. Decorations sparkled from every corner, and Greyson resisted the urge to cover his eyes from the brightness so he could watch his step. There seemed to be just as many ornaments and garlands on the floor as hung up around the room.

"Ah, the last one, thank you Hagrid," Professor McGonagall praised, gesturing to somewhere further in the hall. "It goes in the corner over there." Hagrid moved it to where McGonagall pointed as she continued to decorate the largest tree that stood in the center of the tables for the teachers.

"It looks marvelous in here, Professor," Greyson told her, taking in all the red and green, gold and silver. There was garland strung along the hall and trees decorated with candles. "Makes me feel like it's Christmas day already."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," she said, smiling fondly. He couldn't help smiling back and resisted the urge to compliment her work more if it meant getting another smile like that. "I must say, it is a shame you weren't a Gryffindor."

Greyson shrugged bashfully, and tried to physically wave away his embarrassing thoughts. "Slytherin isn't too bad, once you get past all the sneering and upturned noses. They can even be sweet sometimes."

"Like a piranha," Harry huffed, causing Ron to chuckle. They followed Hagrid over to the corner where he placed down the giant tree.

"Oh," Hermione gasped suddenly. "We need to get to the library."

"Library?" Hagrid questioned as he brushed off his hands on his pants. "Bit close to the holidays for studying, eh?"

"Oh, we aren't studying," Greyson dismissed that immediately. He was going to fully enjoy the holidays and that was that. "We're looking for Nicholas Flamel."

"Nicholas Flamel?" Hagrid asked disapprovingly. "I thought I told you to leave all of that nonsense alone."

"We just want to know who he is," Harry insisted, cutting off the conversation and giving his best attempt at an innocent smile.

"... Well, I suppose that's alright," Hagrid conceded after a few moments, but the suspicion in his tone hadn't banked at all. Greyson smiled his widest smile and didn't bother even trying to look anything less than guilty. "Just leave Fluffy and all that nonsense alone."

"We will," Harry assured and ushered them all out quickly toward the library.

After spending a few hours searching fruitlessly in the library, Greyson let out a sigh. "Hermione, I don't think we're ever going to find out about Flamel," he told her. "At least not without Madam Pince's help."

"I'm sure we can," Hermione insisted. "Besides we can't have Snape and Quirrel knowing we're onto them."

"And I know I've read about Flamel somewhere," Harry's voice floated over from his side of the table. Greyson had no idea how he managed to sound so bored but also determined at the same time.

Greyson sighed again as his stomach grumbled. "Well, let's go get some lunch at least. A break would definitely do me some good" He closed his book and got up. "We can look more over the holiday."

"And Hermione, you can look for Flamel on the internet," Harry added.

"Internet?" Ron asked frowning.

"It's a muggle invention," Greyson explained. "You have this box called a computer and when you turn it on you can access all the information muggles have ever made. It's like a hive mind for muggles, basically."

"It even catalogs books and stores plenty of documents," Hermione sounded so adoring you'd think she was daydreaming about the biggest library in the world.

"You can even play games," Harry piled on, seeming to not even notice Ron looking more confused and scared as they continued on. "Dudley loved blowing up aliens all the time."

"Aliens?" Ron repeated in a squeaky voice, his wide eyes darting between them.

"Creatures that live in space," Greyson explained, leaning forward like he was telling a horror story. Ron's eyes seemed to get even wider and his bottom lip even started trembling. Oh this was too easy. Greyson successfully resisted the urge to cackle but it was a close call. Greyson couldn't wait to show Ron all the cool things that Muggles could do, though he was sure it would blow his mind at the thought that Muggles had managed to create things that wizards hadn't been able to do, like videos instead of moving pictures. He would have to bring something next year for Ron to see. Next time, he'd have a camera ready. It was really a crime not to get that terrified look on film.


	13. Chapter 13

Greyson spent most of his holiday in the common room reading all the books he could find in the library. Some were to find out about Flamel and others were just because they sounded interesting. He absolutely adored the book _Mysterious, Magical Artifacts and Relics_. It talked a great deal about items that the wizard world said existed and legends surrounding them, but they were lost to time. His fingers itched to hold the items himself. He was even considering buying a copy for himself the next time he went to Diagon Alley.

On Christmas Eve however, he didn't want to stay in the Slytherin common room for one reason and one reason only. He wanted to spend Christmas morning with his brother exchanging gifts. There was one issue with that. He wasn't allowed in the Gryffindor Common room, but there was one witch who could, and likely would, make an exception to that rule for him.

Greyson stalked about the castle searching for McGonagall. He found her in her office, grading the papers she had them write before the holidays. "Excuse me, professor?" Greyson said politely as he made his way into her pristine office.

"Ah. Mr. Potter," her voice and smile were warm despite her strict posture. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to ask you something," he started. "I know it's an unusual request, all things considered, but I was hoping you'd make an exception."

"Yes?" she asked, rolling her wrist elegantly as a cue for him to continue.

Greyson took a deep breath and rushed out, "Is it possible for me to stay in the Gryffindor rooms tonight?"

She blinked, but seemed to consider the question without judgement. "Well, I do believe that is a first. A Slytherin wanting to be in the Gryffindor common rooms." A huff of amusement seemed to leave her at her revelation.

"Well, since you're the head of Gryffindor, I figured you would be the one to let me, if at all. I just want to be able to wake up Christmas morning with Harry and there isn't really anyone in the Slytherin house I want to spend it with."

"Of course. I understand completely. Let me bring you up there myself. Heaven knows Percy will be trying to stop you if I don't tell him myself."

"Thank you, Professor," Greyson smiled genuinely, relieved that he'd be able to spend time with his brother for the remainder of the holiday. He waited patiently for her to finish organizing the papers on her desk and followed her down the hall and up a couple of flights of stairs before she stopped at a portrait of a rather large woman in a pink dress.

"Treacle Tart," Professor McGonagall declared to the painting and Greyson watched as the portrait swung open. He followed McGonagall inside Harry and Ron immediately sat up in their chairs, candy wrappers falling to the floor. Greyson muffled a chuckle at their beat red cheeks that were only getting brighter.

"Professor," Harry stammered. "We were just cleaning up."

She tutted disapprovingly but there was a distinct teasing edge to her look. She chuckled with a faint smile playing on her lips. "Relax Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley. I was just walking our guest up."

"Guest?" they parroted. Both of their eyes immediately snapped to him and it made Greyson more warm than he had ever felt to see their faces light up.

"Me," Greyson nodded. "McGonagall gave me permission to stay here for the night. Thank you, Professor. It means a lot to me."

"And the remainder of the holiday," she added, turning her fond look back to him. It was overwhelming, but… good. "I just came to make sure Percy was aware of this change. Ronald, will you please fetch him?"

"Yes, Professor," Ron saluted before going to what Greyson assumed was the boys' rooms to get Percy. Percy came strutting out like he was on his way to a very important meeting and stopped short when he saw Greyson, his face twisting like he'd swallowed a lemon. Greyson let his own face morph into a perfectly pleasant yet threatening smile. He was spending the holiday with his brother. Percy would be wise to hold his tongue for once.

"I am so sorry Professor," he sniffed. "I should have kept a better eye on Ron and Harry. I should have stopped him from entering the moment he came. To think a Sly-"

"That is enough, Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall clucked sharply, stopping Percy from his high and mighty rant, making Greyson's smile widen and he held back a snicker. "I was informing you that Greyson will be a guest of Gryffindor's for the remainder of the holiday. Once the holiday is over, we will have the password changed and he is to return to the Slytherin common room."

"Right, of course, Professor," Percy said after a furious pause, not wasting any time kissing back up to McGonagall. Greyson rolled his eyes at Percy's brown nosing.

"Well, enjoy your holiday," she said. She seemed satisfied with the situation and rested her hand lightly on Greyson's shoulder for a moment before disappearing back through the portrait door.

"This is great," Harry grinned. "I was worried I wouldn't get to see you until supper. But now you can stay here."

"Well, you better not mess anything up," Percy said. "Move one toe out of line..."

"Oh, shove it," Greyson said, not even bothering to turn toward him as he spoke. "You're just upset that McGonagall likes me more than you and I don't have to kiss up to her for it." Percy just scowled at him, opening his mouth ineffectually but saying nothing, before huffing and going back to his room. "I swear, he's got the biggest stick."

"Did we hear about a Slytherin in the common rooms?" Greyson heard a voice coming from the stairs. He turned to see Fred and George bounding down.

"You did," Ron smiled at his brothers. "McGonagall is letting him stay here for the holidays."

"You can stay with us," George grinned.

"We have a spare bed since Jordan went home for the holidays," Fred agreed.

"Alright," Greyson nodded, figuring Harry wouldn't be too keen on sharing a bed like they did at the Dursleys. Though, Greyson wouldn't have minded cuddling with Harry to go to bed. Sleeping in his own bed still felt lonely some nights. "Let me just go grab some of my things from my room."

"Need any help?" Fred offered.

Greyson shrugged. "Sure, why not?" He waved off Ron and Harry to their snacking and game of wizard chess he noticed he'd interrupted. He didn't have much and seeing his brother so at home in his own house was heartwarming. They settled back down by the fireplace and continued their game.

"So, where are the Slytherin common rooms?" George asked, apparently deciding he was helping too.

"In the dungeons," he replied, ignoring the wide eyed look they shared. "There's a really cool view of the lake. Sometimes you see the giant squid swim by. I've even seen a merperson a time or two. They're bloody frightening but beyond wondrous."

"Wicked," Fred breathed in amazement at the thought.

Greyson nodded excitedly. "They even carry weapons made of shells and sticks and bones. Bloody fascinating to see them at night too."

"Sounds better than Gryffindor tower," George frowned.

"Well, we have a lot more sneers and upturned noses in Slytherin," he chuckled with them as they reached the dungeons. "Milk thistle." He watched the door open and walked in with the Weasley twins trailing behind him.

"Bloody brilliant," Goerge looked around unabashedly as they followed him, taking in the walls awash in green and silver.

"I'm the only one in the Slytherin Common Rooms for the holidays,' Greyson said. "Feel free to look around." He paused before adding, "But don't mess with anything."

"Aw, you're no fun," Fred pouted as he went over to the view of the lake. "This is fascinating."

Greyson left them in the main room as he entered his room to grab a few books and night clothes. While he didn't care for them, he did want to be proper in Gryffindor since he was a guest and not in his own house for the night.

"Whose bed is this?" George asked, looking at the bed in the opposite corner of the room.

"Malfoy's," Greyson drawled. "He is so prim and proper. He blushes anytime I strip down to my briefs for bed."

"Clothes on in our room, Potter," Fred said sternly.

"That's why I was grabbing them," Greyson replied with an eyeroll. "I swear, are all wizards this embarrassed over briefs?"

"Are all muggles so shameless?" George retorted.

"Fair enough, I guess I'm just brazen," he smirked, physically waving away the questions. "Back to Gryffindor?"

"We haven't finished looking around," George pouted, making no move toward the door and continuing to snoop around. "Besides, I want to know what Malfoy uses to make his nose stay upturned without getting neck cramps." Before Greyson could stop them, they began rummaging through the drawers.

"What is this?" Fred asked with a huge grin. He held up an old stuffed rabbit. It looked well-loved, wear evident on its floppy ears and soft paws. "Does he sleep with this?"

Greyson blinked slowly. "No..." he said, surprised that Malfoy would leave something so obviously treasured... but Greyson had been in the room the day he packed to go home. "But put it back and I'll show you guys something cool." Something in his chest screamed at him to be protective of the stuffed toy. Malfoy obviously didn't want him to know about it, and it made his chest ache with guilt that he knew about it now despite that. George needed to get his hands off of it, and it would be easy to distract him.

"Is it a secret passageway?" George asked excitedly, eyes seemed to sparkle. Greyson couldn't stop his eyes from tracking every movement as the bunny was put safely back in its hiding place.

"No, cooler, a cerberus," Greyson grinned. His chest puffed with pride as he thought of how much Fluffy enjoyed his company. Fred and George's expressions became even more gleeful at the thought of more mischief.

They dropped off Greyson's things in the twins' room before scampering off to the third floor. "Isn't it forbidden?" George asked quietly as they approached their destination.

"Yeah," Greyson replied, unperturbed.

"And didn't Dumbledore say something about dying a horrific death?" Fred added on.

"Uh-huh," Greyson nodded.

"Cool," the twins chorused. Greyson opened the door and was greeted with a few friendly barks.

"Hey, Fluffy," Greyson cooed, rubbing one wet nose as Rascal and Coal moved in from the left and right for some petting too. "Yes, Rascal, you're a good boy. You too, Coal." Greyson honestly thought Hagrid was wrong for giving an animal with three heads one name, so he gave them two more, fitting their personalities. They were such good boys, they deserved it.

"This is what Dumbledore's been hiding up here?" Fred questioned in awe.

"Yeah, he's Hagrid's," Greyson told him. "I've been working with him and he is so sweet. He doesn't really trust strangers so it's a big thing for him not to want to eat you. But I think it's because I'm here, really."

"That is so cool," George was trembling in excitement now. "Hey let's bring him outside! I bet he'd be fun to ride."

Greyson shook his head. "We can't, they're guarding something for Dumbledore," he explained. "Fluffy, Rascal, and Coal are the first line of defense for whatever is down there."

Both twins eyed the trap door. "Come on," George grinned and moved closer like he was trying to physically impress the possibilities on him. "I bet it'd be fun."

"You know you want to," Fred encouraged. Greyson did want to... He had to know just what was hiding in there. What was so important _or dangerous _that Dumbledore needed a cerberus guarding it?

"Alright," he relented after a moment. He waved the cerberus away from the door. "And eat anyone who tries to come through," he instructed playfully, getting an obedient yip in response.

"You're bloody excellent with him," George complimented before jumping down with Fred following. These twins were fearless! Greyson refused to be upstaged. Without hesitation, he jumped down next and felt himself land on something hard and tangly.

"What is this?" George yelped as the vines started entangling themselves around their bodies. Over the next few seconds, they continued their ascent with no signs of slowing.

Greyson looked at the vines and the room frantically, combing his mind for anything that could help their situation. Suddenly, a lesson slammed to the forefront of his mind that had ended in a similar situation and his body relaxed in relief. "Oh, it's Devil's Snare," he breathed, then raised his voice to a command for the twins. "You just have to relax and you'll be fine." They shared a look, seeming to decide to trust in Greyson's knowledge, and they all let their bodies go limp. Soon after they were dropped to the hard stone floor below. Greyson wasted no time preparing his wand. He wouldn't be caught off guard again. "Lumos." Greyson whispered, lighting up his wand with the twins following suit. They spotted a large wooden door and nodded to each other in understanding before cautiously approaching it and opening it to find hundreds of peculiar insects flying about. Greyson watched as they glinted in the light and couldn't think of any that glittered and gleamed like these.

"My word," George mumbled, looking around with wide eyes at the tall, circular room with a large pillar in the center. "Dumbledore must be protecting something ridiculously important."

"Why is there a broom?" Fred asked, bringing their attention to the sad old thing, seemingly hovering in the middle of the dank room.

"Those are keys," Greyson gasped as his vision focused and he got a closer look. They glinted in the light, fluttering here and there. He walked over to the other door and tugged on the handle. Locked. "Alohomora," he commanded the door open through the spell, and tugged at the handle again. Nothing. They would need those keys to get through it seemed.

"We must need one of those keys then," Fred came to the same conclusion after some thought. "George, you're the better flyer, why don't you have a go?"

"Alright," George agreed, hopping onto the broom. The moment he landed on it, all but one key began to target him. He flew around, trying to stay out the way of the other, much angrier keys, to grab the one just fluttering around all on its own.

Once he captured it, Fred jumped up and grabbed it while George continued to evade the even angrier keys. They quickly unlocked and opened the door and watched as the keys carried on carelessly once George was off the broom, acting as if nothing had happened.

They released the key, perfectly unharmed, back to join the others. "Bloody brilliant," Greyson panting, adrenaline starting to ebb after the mad dash to get the door unlocked. He shook his head and squared his shoulders, preparing himself for what else there could be protecting Dumbledore's secrets. "I have to know what it is that Dumbledore has stored away."

"It has to be valuable," George theorized, voice bouncing off the walls of the hallway as they cautiously moved onward. "I bet it's a mountain of treasure."

Greyson snorted and shook his head again. "He doesn't seem to be a money lover."

"Maybe it's a bunch of scandalous pictures," Fred grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

"That just sounds scary," Greyson laughed as they approached the next room. He blinked and took in the large chess set in front of them. "Chess?"

"Wizard's Chess," George corrected him. "But… lifesize."

Greyson nodded his agreement distractedly, remembering the smaller version Harry and Ron were playing with in the tower. Greyson stared at the larger set, wishing he had bothered to learn to play it himself.

"Do either of you know how to play chess?" he hedged. Ron obviously liked the game, perhaps the twins did too?

"Not well," Fred and George said in unison.

"Guess we have to go back until we're good at chess," Greyson sighed, not wanting to admit defeat but not knowing what would happen if they lose the game. He wasn't sure it was worth the risk. "Because I sure don't know how to play." After some complaining from the twins, they retraced their steps, and Greyson made sure that the door of the key room was locked as it had been.

"How do we get through the Devil's Snare?" George asked, looking at the ceiling full of the clinging plant.

Greyson sat down and closed his eyes. "Lumos. Devil's snare, devil's snare, deadly fun but hates the sun." He smiled, having come to a decision, and stood up. "Lumos maxima." He released a blinding light and saw a ladder on the edge. "This way." They scrambled up, occasionally letting out more blinding flashes of light from their wands to keep the Devil's Snare at bay.

They popped out of the trap door and saw a pair of giant boots. "Hello Hagrid," Greyson said when he noticed the giant spotted him.

"What are you three doin' down there?" Hagrid asked, dropping some giant roasts in front of Fluffy and turning to acknowledge them.

"Checking on the Devil's Snare for Professor Sprout," Greyson replied easily. He had had a cover story planned the second they freed themselves from the plant. "She wanted to make sure it was damp enough down there for it."

"Oh, alrigh' then," he gruffed, seeming to take Greyson's words at face value, and held out one of the giant roasts to Fluffy. The three scrambled out of the hole and closed the door.

"Make sure you give Coal and Rascal some too Hagrid," Greyson told him after dusting off his robes. "They tend to get jealous when only Fluffy gets fed."

"Rascal and Coal?" Hagrid asked.

"Yeah, the other two," he explained. "It seemed wrong to have three heads and one name."

"Oh, well, I suppose yer right," Hagrid agreed. "Does seem to fit them. And wait, why are they so friendly with ye?"

"I've been training them," Greyson grinned. "After I met them, I had to know more about them. They're such good boys and they love their belly rubs." At the sound of belly rubs, the cerberus rolled over and wagged their tail. Greyson was too happy to oblige. He gave them each a nose kiss. "Be good boys and guard the door." They barked again and watched as the three left before focusing on Hagrid and their dinner.


	14. Chapter 14

"Wake up!" A loud drawl next to Greyson's ear sent him further into his warm blankets but then the shaking started.

"Stop..." he groaned out before the comforter was ripped from the bed and cold air surrounded him. He sat up reluctantly and glared at the red headed fiends before him. "I'm going to haunt you jackasses when I die."

"It's Christmas!" Fred yelled excitedly and Greyson grunted as the twins put his arms around their shoulders and carried him out to the main area of the common room.

"Greyson!" Harry grinned sleepily upon spotting his brother. Utterly relaxed and hair sleep mussed, the sight warmed Greyson's heart. His brother was doing better here than he could have ever guessed. Greyson pulled away from the twins and moved to drape himself across Harry.

"Don't move," Greyson drowsed, laying his head in Harry's lap.

"Since when did you become the tired one?" Harry laughed, beginning to run his fingers through Greyson's hair just as he used to when they were children and needed comfort.

"Don't stop," Greyson ordered. He sounded like a demanding child even to his own ears, but he felt truly content for the first time since coming to Hogwarts and he didn't want it to end but Harry moved away, forcing Greyson to sit up. He gave Harry his best mock glare but Harry just smiled indulgently and seemed to be waiting for him to do something. He had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. How did Christmas work now that they were somewhere new? "I'm here... now what?"

"We open our presents," Ron chirped, already kneeling before the brightly wrapped gifts with an excited sparkle in his eye. "Have you never experienced Christmas?"

"Here," Harry said, handing Greyson a stack of presents and purposefully ignoring Ron's question.

"Why are there so many?" Greyson asked as he took them hesitantly. He looked them over and saw about eight presents... normally he had two. One from Harry and one from Mrs. Figg. Were they all for him? There must have been a mistake.

"Oh, I told Mum that you two weren't expecting any," Ron said as he spotted the lumpy package. "Oh no, I think she made you a Weasley sweater."

Greyson started with the bag and saw his penny candies were in there and would munch on those later, along with his traditional cabbage smelling candy bar. Mrs. Figg had still gotten him a Christmas present. His chest was almost uncomfortably warm but it wasn't a bad feeling. He opened the lumpy package next to see a hand knit emerald green sweater with a giant silver G on it. What was Ron talking about? It looked so cozy and the colors were so pretty! He had never gotten anything that was personalized for him either. The warm feeling had turned into a fire and he couldn't stop his face from splitting into a large wobbly grin. "This is brilliant. I'm going to have to write your mum a letter."

"For what?" Fred asked distractedly as he tore into his own presents.

"For making us these sweaters," Greyson told him, ignoring the way his voice wavered slightly. "It must have taken her forever to make even one of these."

"Don't forget the fudge," George piped up from his area, picking up a box with a red ribbon around it. "She makes these for us every year. You might as well accept it, you're a Weasley now."

"Next she'll be wetting her thumb and rubbing dirt off your nose," Fred laughed, miming the gesture and following it up with a grossed out expression. Greyson laughed despite himself, and George seemed shocked for a second. He collected himself quickly and joined in soon enough.

"Just like little inkle, Ronny-kins," George teased after they all calmed down.

"Oh, shove off," Ron chuckled. Greyson just shook his head at their antics and began opening up the gift from Ron, which was a chocolate frog. Hermione got him a book on the history of the Hogwarts founders and Hagrid made him a rough figurine of Fluffy, Coal, and Rascal that he had carved out of wood and would definitely go on his bedside table for the rest of time. The twins had gotten him some fizzing whizzbees, which could make you levitate while eating them, and black pepper imps that let you breathe fire according to the packaging.

"Sorry I wasn't able to get you gifts," Greyson murmured, looking at each of them in turn. "I didn't think I'd be getting anything more than I usually do..."

"It's alright," Fred grinned reassuringly. "You already gave us a great one last night."

"Experience of a lifetime," George agreed.

"You can just get me a chocolate frog later," Ron chirped.

"Deal," Greyson laughed. He found a 20p coin from Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. He tucked that away for Harry's birthday next year and saw Harry had given Ron his coin to Ron's amazement.

Greyson frowned at the last package he had that was unmarked, except for his name on it. The hand writing was similar to what was on his mystery birthday present left on his bed. He unwrapped it to find a book on dragons, the binding even seemed to be made of dragon scales that were so dark they seemed to reflect every color of the rainbow when the light hit them. "Wow," his awed whisper attracted everyone's attention as he brushed his hand over the scales reverently. Whoever this mystery book giver was, they were certainly good at picking out books for him.

"Is that made out of Dragon skin?" Fred was practically leaning at a 45 degree angle to get a better look.

"It has to be bloody expensive," George said in wonder. "Bill got some boots and they cost him a couple galleons."

"Well, guess I have a book I need to take care of more than usual then," he said, unable to keep the smile from his face. His face was starting to hurt at this point, but he couldn't find himself annoyed with such a beautiful book in his lap. Whoever this mystery book giver is, Greyson would be eternally grateful… and start figuring out exactly who they are now that his interest has thoroughly been peaked.

"You missed one," Ron pointed out, grabbing a neatly wrapped brown paper package with a note attached to it. Greyson and Harry both went to grab it from him.

Greyson pulled and read the note aloud, "'Your father left it in my care before he died. I believe it is time that this was returned to the both of you.' I wonder who had this..." he said as Harry unwrapped it to reveal a silvery shimmery fabric.

"It's a cloak," Harry informed him as he swung it around his shoulders, gasps filling the room as it made his body seemingly disappear, leaving only Harry's floating head.

"It's an invisibility cloak," Ron blurted, his mouth stuck open wide. "They're incredibly rare."

"And bloody expensive," Fred whispered, reaching out to touch it.

"But that thing has to be extremely old to be that effective," George said as he looked at it. "They are usually enchanted and start to fade after a few years. This one has to be extremely powerful." Now that truly piqued Greyson's interest.

"Really?" Greyson wondered and rubbed his hand over his mouth in thought.

"Yeah, we've read loads about them," Fred said. "Been trying to find one, but haven't been able to. Either can't find 'em or can't afford them."

Greyson nodded to show he'd heard. Whoever this mystery cloak giver was, had to be an honest person if they were willing to give up such a valuable item to two boys who had no idea of their past or their inheritance. This stranger could have kept it to themselves.

Harry grinned as an idea came to him. "I can use this to go see the forbidden section in the library."

"I'm coming with you then," Greyson demanded.

"Could we borrow it sometime?" Fred and George inquired in unison.

"Absolutely not," he told them.

"What? Why not?" George squawked, putting his hand over his heart and striking a dramatically betrayed pose. "Think of all the things we could do with it! We thought you were our new partner in crime!"

"And that's exactly why I'm putting a firm no down," Greyson wagged his finger at them. "I don't need that going in Filch's office dungeon. Or have Mrs. Norris use it as a scratching post."

"I thought you'd be more fun," Fred huffed. "Especially after last night."

"What _did_ you three do last night?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Visited Rascal, Coal, and Fluffy," Greyson replied. "Otherwise these two were going to destroy the Slytherin common rooms with their snooping."

"You two went to Slytherin?" Ron asked. "Don't like being in Gryffindor?"

"We like Gryffindor tower just fine," Fred said.

"Just had to know where all those pig nosed Slytherins stay, present company excluded," George teased, giving Greyson a wink.

"Honestly, Percy would fit right in with them," Greyson huffed. "Him and Malfoy could be twins. Except instead of 'My father' he goes, 'Headmaster'."

"Don't think yourself so high and mighty, Slytherin," Percy's shrill voice rang from the staircase. Oh yeah. Percy's room was right at the top of the stairs.

"I don't," Greyson yelled back. "But you do." Tension was palpable in the room as no one moved, watching this finally come to a head. "You've been on my case since day one all because I'm in Slytherin. 'You can't mess with the first years because you're a Slytherin.' 'How dare a Slytherin ask me, a _Gryffindor_ for help.' Honestly, all you've done is treat me like shite since I've gotten here when I haven't even done a bloody thing to you or to cause you to look at me wrong. But because I'm a Slytherin, you watch me like a bloody hawk waiting for me to do something wrong when I have no intention of doing that when I just wanted to spend time with my brother for Christmas. But I swear, you have your head buried so deep in whoever's arse you've been sniffing, that you don't even know how to learn about a person. Honestly, with all your power hungry butt-kissing, _you_ should have been the bloody Slytherin with how you act."

Percy's footsteps faded as he finished running down the stairs to stand red-faced in front of everyone. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. Finally he managed to find his words and weakly utters, "Just wait until McGonagall hears about this."

"Great, let me know when you plan on telling her because I would love to hear you explain your bigotry towards me for doing nothing towards you or any other Gryffindors," Greyson replied. "Because I don't think calling a fool out on his actions is a reason to be punished."

"Bigot?! You… you act the way you do just to get attention! I'm just the only one who will call you out on it. You're in Slytherin for a reason! You wouldn't be one if you were a good person! No one cares about you and no one will remember you cause-cause… Everyone only cares about Harry! As they sh-should!" As his shrill voice lost steam at the end of his rant, the twins looked to Percy in wide eyed shock and anger while Ron seemed to be shrinking in on himself. Harry was rigid and glassy-eyed.

Greyson told himself his words held no weight, but they stung nonetheless. They cut deep and had Greyson holding back tears. He refused to cry in front of Percy and give him the satisfaction of knowing that those words got to him, of seeing him cry. He stood up and brushed himself off. "I think I'll take a walk," he said, keeping his tone monotonous and face turned away from everyone. On that note, he turned on his heel and left to go wandering about the castle. His mind felt muted, like it was stuffed with cotton, and his eyes still burned traitorously. He told himself nothing Percy said was true even if, deep down, he knew the reason the words hurt so much was because he believed them.


	15. Chapter 15

Greyson wandered the castle for what must have been an hour. He wasn't able to keep the tears gone for long as they eventually worked their way slowly down his face. He swallowed down his sobs and didn't even bother wiping his face as he let his feet take him away from what had been the best Christmas morning he had ever had.

He eventually came to a large empty room far from the tower and Percy and where Peeves was nowhere near. The stone was dusty and dank from little use and the large pillars had concerning cracks and scuffs, but the silence was too sweet a temptation. Here he could find peace for a little while at least. As he ventured further inside the room he saw an oval mirror of dull gold with two intimidating spires on top. Was such a large room just for this mirror? There was nothing else in it so it must be. He rubbed his tears away with the back of his hand as he took in its details with clearer eyes. The mirror itself formed a pointed archway, reminding him very much of a gothic cathedral or of Hogwarts itself. Otherwise it seemed to be just a regular mirror. Odd.

He sniffled as he tried to slow his tears. At the top of the mirror it had a strange inscription on it. _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_. He repeated it a few times to himself to look it up later and looked in the mirror to see if his face made his distress obvious. His eyes were red and his face blotchy. He'd have to spend a little bit in here regardless, it seemed, until his face was more presentable. The last thing he wanted was people asking questions or, even worse, pitying him.

He moved closer when he realized something about the way was not quite right and frowned when he saw himself older and handsome looking. He had light crow's feet at the corner of his eyes and a few grey hairs that became more obvious now that he was looking for oddities. A proud look showed in his counterpart's eyes and suddenly the scene twisted in on itself. Books now surrounded him in the mirror and the flashes of cameras were almost overwhelming. He was signing books. He was respected and revered. He was important.

He reached his hand forward to touch it gently, as if anything harder would shatter this illusion he wished so desperately to be true. When his hand touched the cool surface and nothing changed the scene from seemingly replaying itself over and over again he remembered this was just a mirror. He'd never be famous or respected or even remembered... not with Harry being in the limelight as the "Chosen One" and Greyson being in his shadow as… well, the "Forgotten One" he supposed.

He closed his eyes tight as a new wave of misery washed over him and brought more tears and anger with it. He wasn't mad at his brother, he could never blame Harry for something that wasn't his fault. Harry had started a few arguments and said a few hurtful things but Greyson had done the same and would never hold it against his brother. He was angry at Voldemort! For taking their parents, for throwing him with the rotten luck of being in his brother's shadow, for Greyson not being the "Chosen One".

Instead of what he had seen making him happy, all it did was make him feel even worse because he knew it would never come true. His rage boiled over and he slammed his fist against it, causing a loud clanging sound to echo in the chamber.

"Why?" He cried out loudly. "Why can't I ever be important? Or noticed? Or even cared about?" He knew people cared, but it didn't feel that way. It felt like they were all pretending to care about him to get closer to Harry. To be friends with his brother and that Greyson was just a tool to their plans. He knew that the moment Harry decided that he didn't care for Greyson everyone would leave him.

He gasped for breath as he fell to his knees, curling in on himself. He let out an ugly choking sob. He punched the mirror more, wanting to smash it to a million pieces, until it was just a bunch of pieces on the ground and couldn't show him what he so desperately wanted and wouldn't ever have. But with it being a magic mirror, his fists just bounced harmlessly off.

All he wanted to break and smash things, to get his frustrations out in the only way he could think of. But he didn't have the energy to run to the window and shatter it and even as upset as he was he wasn't that dramatic. All that was in this bloody chamber was the damned mirror that he couldn't dent, much less destroy.

After what seemed like forever his sobs subsided and became little hiccups as he tried to catch his breath. He rubbed at his red and itchy eyes again, hating how ugly he'd looked earlier and knowing he looked worse now. He would never look as handsome as the stupid mirror showed him. He moved away from it and sat in a corner, curled up in a ball. His face would stop feeling so raw soon enough and then he could trudge back to his room and pass out until he felt ready to face the world again.

While what he truly wanted more than anything was to be up in Gryffindor tower with Harry, Ron, Fred and George, he couldn't bring himself to go back. Even just thinking about them made his heart feel as though it was constricting and the feeling didn't lighten up until he decided not to go.

He rubbed at his nose to get the horrid runny clear snot off his face that never seemed to stop once he started crying. It mixed horribly with his tears. He rubbed his arm on the front of his shirt since there were no tissues in sight. He was already disgusting and felt like he needed a shower anyway.

"Greyson?" he heard a familiar voice call. He shrunk further into his corner, not saying a word, half relieved and half hoping he would just go away and leave him to his sadness.

The twins appeared before him, moving slowly as if approaching a spooked horse. "Hey," George cooed kindly as the twins looked Greyson over and took in his appearance. They each sat on either side of him.

"Percy was wrong, ya know," Fred said as he and George wrapped an arm around him protectively.

"'Bout which part?" Greyson asked, rubbing at his eyes and nose.

"Everything," George told him.

Greyson didn't answer, but focused on that pit in his stomach that made him so nauseous. While he didn't like that feeling, he didn't want it to leave him quite yet. He wasn't ready to be comforted.

"Yeah, we care about Harry," Fred took over. "But Harry isn't our friend."

"Not like you at least," George added. "Besides, you're bound to be remembered. You're the only Slytherin to go into Gryffindor tower, like ever."

"And the way you were able to tame Fluffy," Fred piped up with a grin. "I doubt Dumbledore could even do that!"

"And he's supposed to be the greatest wizard ever!" George shuffled closer with his own grin.

"Not to mention how you tell anyone off that deserves it. The whole school was talking about how a Slytherin stood up to Snape for a Gryffindor."

"You're quite impressive, whether you know it or not."

"Thanks," Greyson said quietly, feeling his lips twitch up despite himself. The fact they sounded as if they wholeheartedly believed what they were saying made the pressure in his chest ease up some and it felt like he could take a full breath again. "But he's probably right to a degree... everyone else only cares about Harry... No one will care about me when Harry stops caring about me... It already happened when I first got here..."

"You're mad!" Fred cried out. "We'd care about you even if you had a second head!"

"Or slug eyes," George nodded sagely and then shuddered for effect.

"Or turned into a troll boogie," Fred added in a comically disgusted voice and laughed, causing Greyson to laugh as well. It felt a little off, but the fact that he didn't feel _bad_ anymore made him eternally grateful to the twins. Fred's grin got wider at the sound of Greyson's laugh joining in. "That's better. You looked so miserable with that frown on your face."

"And don't listen to Percy," George reminded him. "He has his head so full of hot air it's a wonder it hasn't caused him to float off the ground."

"Not to mention he's not used to anyone not respecting his all mighty prefect authority. You scare him."

"Scare him?" Greyson asked, raising a brow. "I highly doubt that."

"You should see him in the common rooms," George shook his head and rolled his eyes so hard Greyson was concerned he might hurt himself. "If he was a teacher he'd be handing out detentions left and right for rule breaking."

"I told you, he's a bloody menace," Greyson grumbled. "He has the largest stick I've ever seen, I think it might even be spiked." Fred and George burst out laughing and Greyson managed another small smile as he started to get up. "Come on. We should get back. Harry's probably worried." The twins nodded and got up as well, flanking him on either side protectively.

"So what's with that mirror?" George asked and Greyson wondered if he had been holding back asking about it for a while.

"I don't truly know," Greyson admitted, feeling better with Fred and George there. "We don't want to miss the feast. I'll tell you both all about it later."

"We have a few hours till the feast," Fred drawled. "We could do something way more fun."

"Like?" Greyson encouraged, raising a brow.

George just grinned devilishly and wagged his finger. "Now, now, can't ruin the surprise." They both started pushing Greyson forward. He let out a laugh as they started running, the sound of their bare feet slapping on the stone floor echoing in the hall.

As soon as they got back to the tower Fred and George ushered Greyson to their room so he could change out of his pajamas. They kept their arms linked with his the whole time and Greyson found his smiles coming easier as they chatted on the way outside.


	16. Chapter 16

Greyson was soaked from head to toe as the snow on his clothes and in his hair melted. Fred and George had decided a snowball fight was the best thing to do to get out of the castle and keep Greyson's spirits lifted.

"I still can't believe you had those snowballs chasing Quirrel's turban," Greyson said with a shake of his head.

"You were howling," George retorted. "I saw you on the ground, holding your sides."

"I never said it was _bad_," Greyson grinned. "Just that I couldn't believe it."

"Well, he gave us such a great target," Fred snickered as they walked to the Great Hall for the Christmas feast. "It would have been a waste not to." They sat over at the Gryffindor table by Harry and Ron, who were still playing wizard's chess.

"You two have been playing that game an awful lot," Greyson said as an idea took root in his mind.

"Yeah, and Ron keeps winning," Harry sniffed, eyes narrowed in suspicion as if he suspected the pieces on the board might be moving of their own volition when he wasn't looking.

"Mind if I play a match?" Greyson asked.

"Sure," Harry sighed in relief. "It's not like I'm much good." Greyson nodded and waited for their match to end, filling his plate with roasted meats and buttered potatoes.

Once Harry lost to Ron once again, he and Greyson swapped places and Greyson listened intently to Ron explain the rules. They seemed simple enough but the game obviously required quite quite a bit of foresight and patience to be any good. Greyson wasn't sure how well he'd fare, but the talking pieces and their fluid movements were a spectacle all on their own.

Greyson played terribly the first few rounds as he exercised his understanding of the rules and strategies of the game.

"Don't send me there!" the knight yelled for what seemed to be the hundredth time. "Don't you see his queen?"

"I am in charge here, knight," he snapped, leaving no room for argument. "If I choose to sacrifice you to his queen in order to win then I will. But if you keep talking and telling our opponent about moves they could make, then it will not help us in securing their king." After that, his pieces became remarkably quiet and obedient and Greyson revelled in the feeling of control he finally attained. Magic was all about showing confidence and being sure of yourself, after all.

"How'd you do that?" Harry demanded.

"Do what?" Greyson asked distractedly.

"Get them to stop talking," he replied.

"Oh, I told them to. Honestly, magic is all about being sure of yourself and commanding it," Greyson explained. "Like when you ride your broom. If you were even the least bit uncertain, you wouldn't be half as good as you are." Harry nodded, seeming to take in what Greyson was telling him with all the seriousness of a practical exam.

Eventually, Greyson truly got the hang of wizard's chess and managed to beat Ron at one game. "You are really good at strategy Ron." Greyson blinked as he realized that all the food was gone from the trays and looked around in confusion. "Where'd the food go?"

"Dumbledore got rid of it," George laughed. "Feast ended, but you were too wrapped up in your game."

"Oh," Greyson said. "I'll just go to the kitchens then. I'm sure that I can get a snack."

"How do you know where the kitchens are?" Fred asked.

"I like to see the house elves sometimes. They're kind of adorable with their giant floppy bat ears and big eyes," he responded. "I see them a lot in the Slytherin common room."

"House elves?" Harry parroted.

"Yeah, they clean the common rooms and do the laundry and cooking," Greyson listed off. "They're really friendly but they don't like conversing with me too much. And they call me sir an awful lot, a bit annoying, but what can you do?"

Soon, they heard the clacking sound of boots and saw Professor McGonagall approaching their group, looking the most relaxed Greyson had ever seen her. "Merry Christmas, boys," she hummed cheerily.

"Merry Christmas, Professor," they chorused happily.

"Mr. Greyson, I was wanting to know how you're enjoying your stay in Gryffindor Tower," she said.

"It's been great," Greyson smiled, but then a thought occurred to him and his nose crinkled. "Except for Percy."

"Percy?" she repeated, confused.

"Yeah," he lowered his head carefully, unsure what his expression would look like with his chest still feeling a little raw. "He was just... being a bit insufferable, Professor." He got up from the table quickly and started putting a little space between himself and everyone else. "I'll see you all back in the tower. Night, professor." With a respectful bow to McGonagall and a wave to his friends, he left to go to the kitchens and totally missed how the professor was turning to look at Harry with raised eyebrows and a stern look. Maybe they had some pie or cobbler for him to bring back to the common room.

Greyson returned to Gryffindor tower toting a basket of goodies to share with Harry and the Weasleys. "I have snacks," he announced to the room at large. "They gave me a custard pie for each of us and made me a sandwich out of the roasted meat and gravy."

"Cool," Harry said, jumping up to come grab a pie. "You were gone a long time."

"I was talking to a couple of the house elves," Greyson explained, sitting down with his sandwich. "Quibby and Kirk are very vocal now that they know that the thing that 'pleases me most' is conversation. They were telling me about all kinds of stories about things that have happened over the years at the castle in the past 100 or so years. Did you know house elves don't necessarily serve a family per se, but rather a home. So all the house elves here are bound to Hogwarts and not any particular headmaster or teacher."

"That's cool I guess," Harry murmured, focusing on his pie while Ron busied himself with picking out his own.

"Yeah. Oh and they packed a pie for Percy too," he said. "Where is he anyway? Hiding in his room like usual?"

"No, he's with McGonagall… as he should be," George whispered the last part petulantly, sticking a finger full of custard in his mouth.

"O-oh..." he stuttered, attempting to mentally prepare himself for being kicked out of the tower. "I guess I should go get my things..."

"What for?" Fred asked. "McGonagall was furious when she heard how he had been treating you. Interrogated us like a prison guard, she did."

"What?" Greyson blinked.

"Me and Ron," Harry admitted. "She asked us about what had been happening, so we told her." Greyson nodded along and quietly ate his sandwich on autopilot, deep in thought.

Eventually, the portrait door opened and in came a very distraught Percy. He immediately made a beeline for Greyson, who schooled his face and merely looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You!" he hissed, pointing straight at Greyson's face.

Irritation immediately swelled in his chest, and he tossed aside any worry he had started to feel for Percy only moments before. He swatted the finger away. "What about me?" he demanded hotly, setting down his sandwich and squaring his shoulders. Satisfaction warmed his face as Percy took a hesitant step back, obviously intimidated. Good. Greyson wouldn't let himself be walked all over again. The twins had his back. Harry and Ron did too. _Percy,_ of all people, wouldn't hurt him again.

"You just had to go and tattle on me to McGonagall," he accused.

"Tattle? You make it sound like I was upset you took away my favorite toy or something," Greyson snorted. "I never went to McGonagall and all I told her was that you were just being your normal, insufferable self. Anything beyond that was on McGonagall asking around, not me. She obviously didn't like what she heard."

"Like I'd believe a Slytherin," he huffed, sticking his nose in the air and raising his already grating voice in a frail attempt at seeming in control. "I hope you're happy now, though. She told me I was no longer a prefect."

"I am," he admitted. "Though, now I'm going to have two custard pies instead of one since you're such a damn ass. And maybe being a normal student will turn your attitude down a notch and get you off your high horse." He let a thoroughly satisfied smile stretch across his face and delighted in Percy's exaggeratedly offended look.

Percy turned red and stormed off to his room, leaving a few mumbled insults in his wake. Greyson collapsed onto the couch, done dealing with Percy and his attitude.

"Well, that was intense," George snickered.

"Yeah," Greyson agreed. "Anyone want Percy's pie? I'm not too hungry right now, actually."

"Sure," Ron said, grabbing it before anyone else could even open their mouths.

Greyson chuckled and got up, grabbing his book on dragons. "I think I'm going to read for a little bit," he told them. "Oh, and Harry, don't forget what I said this morning." He was not about to have his little brother leave to go exploring the forbidden section of the library in the dead of night without him. But he wasn't going to say it outright, not wanting the twins to ask to tag along. Who knew what kind of trouble those two would get him and Harry in.

"I won't," Harry promised and waved him off with a small and reassuring smile. With that, he nodded and headed to the room he was staying in, feeling a bit lighter. If every Christmas was going to be like this one he couldn't wait for next year.


	17. Chapter 17

"Slow down," Greyson hissed in Harry's ear as they made their way through the darkened halls of the castle. "I don't want my legs appearing."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled as he juggled carrying a lantern and keeping the cloak covering them sufficiently.

"Why did you bring that anyway?" Greyson asked. "We could have just used our wands."

Harry made a face, a splash of pink across his cheeks barely visible in the dim light. "I forgot," he admitted. Greyson shook his head with a chuckle as they continued on cautiously.

They snuck in the forbidden section and Greyson's eyes got wide at all the books in this section. He _had_ to get his hands on these after this whole Quirrel-Snape thing was over with. There were so many books and he was sure that he could convince McGonagall to give him written permission to read these. It would be criminal to leave all these books without the love and attention they deserved.

He watched as Harry opened one book where the pages seemed to form a sunken face. Greyson watched in fascination as its mouth opened wide and it let out a blood curdling scream. "Close it!" Greyson whispered harshly as Harry dropped the lantern in his hurry to do just that. "That's why we don't carry lanterns!" He froze as they heard footsteps approaching and ushered Harry to quickly move away and into a shadowed corner as Filch entered the library.

"Students out of bed?" Filch's nasally and raspy voice sneered, making Greyson's skin crawl and his breath stutter in his chest in an attempt to be even quieter. Greyson kept his eyes trained on the thin, hunched man and attempted to follow Filch's line of sight as he looked around through his oily, straggly hair.

Both boys stayed silent and continued to press themselves into the corner to avoid Filch's advance into the room. The last thing either of them wanted was to lose the cloak after just getting it, especially since it was one of Harry's only reminders of their lost past.

"Professor!" Filch snivelled at the sight of Snape rounding the corner. "There's students out of bed." He held up the shattered lantern in one gnarled hand. Snape merely nodded and scanned the library, seemingly completely uninterested unless the intruders appeared out of thin air. After a moment he turned away and continued his business as if he had never been interrupted.

"Go, I will handle this if I find them," Snape commanded sharply, much to Filch's obvious disappointment. With a heavy sigh and a mumbled acquiescence he made his way out of the library.

Soon enough the library was empty save for them, and Greyson couldn't have been more relieved. "That was close," he whispered. "Come on, let's go back to Gryffindor Tower before they come back. We can't afford to be caught."

Harry nodded. "Yeah," he breathed and they started the slow walk back.

Greyson nearly slammed into Harry when he stopped suddenly halfway through their trek back. He went to fuss at his brother for that but cut himself off at Harry's frantic hand wave towards their next intended hallway. Snape was pushing Quirrell threateningly and speaking in hushed but furious tones.

"What are you doing?" Snape hissed and then went rigid, head snapping around to look _right _at them. Quirrell didn't seem to sense them, continuing to be his normal jumpy self, scared out of his mind in Snape's displeased presence. Greyson stayed absolutely still as his heart hammered away and studied Quirrell's face, trying to see if the man who led the troll into Hogwarts had managed to sense them somehow. It was honestly quite hard to see Quirrell as 'evil' and he could see exactly why Harry swore it was Snape. This scene right here made Snape look even more suspicious, but Greyson _knew_ deep in his gut that Quirrell was the one that was behind everything, from the break in at Gringotts to the releasing of the troll, Quirrell was the one constant. He was always there. Always involved. Greyson knew there was no way it was all coincidence.

He kept his hands on Harry's shoulders and was glad he did so because Harry started backing off to avoid Snape's searching gaze that, unlike earlier, hadn't faltered off once in disinterest. If he hadn't, then Harry would have left Greyson behind in his haste and revealed Greyson to Snape and Quirrell to investigate how he had suddenly appeared.

He followed closely behind a calmer Harry, trying to figure out how Harry was planning on getting back to the tower from the path he was going. "Harry, this isn't the way to the tower," he breathed and then they heard the soft patter of paws and a meow. And then there was Filch, _again_. Which gods had he angered? Who was this unlucky? All right. Time to take control.

"Follow me," Greyson demanded and led Harry straight to the room with the mirror. He closed the door gently behind them only moments before Filch's footsteps sounded right outside the door. Greyson let himself breathe a deep sigh of relief and leaned heavily against the door.

"I think... we're good," he said before sliding down to sit down on the cold stone floor. He realized with a jolt that didn't see his brother. "Harry?" He got back up and walked further into the room, spotting his brother standing wide eyed in front of the mirror.

"Greyson," he breathed in amazement. "Come see." Greyson walked up reluctantly, his gut twisting at what he knew was waiting on the other side of the mirror.

"What is it?" he asked, standing to Harry's left and peering over his shoulder cautiously.

"I see... I see Mom and Dad," he laughed giddily. "And there's our aunts and uncles and grandparents. Generations of Potters. Don't you see them?"

"Yeah," Greyson lied. He couldn't force himself to admit he only saw himself and Harry. He didn't know those people. The only family he needs is Harry.

"Ron has to see this," Harry said eagerly.

"Ron?" Greyson parroted. "Why?"

"He has to see them too," Harry explained, before heading to the door. Greyson nodded and moved so he was more centered in the mirror, hoping it wouldn't be that same horrible image, rubbing in his face what he longed for most but what was the furthest from his reach. It was, of course. More of the same. Him being praised and wanted and acknowledged. He turned from it and followed Harry numbly, not wanting to watch his desires played on the same taunting loop any longer.

The nights following Harry's discovery of the mirror made up a lot of sleepless nights for both of the brothers, but for very different reasons. Greyson spent many nights sitting up by the fire pouring over his books to distract himself from sneaking out every night to see the mirror.

The day before the other students were to come back, Greyson decided to visit the mirror once more. Perhaps there was something he was missing. He couldn't understand how Harry was so enticed with something he could never have. Something so far from reach that there was no point in wishing, but still Harry kept wishing and looking at it.

He considered turning back several times but still eventually found himself sitting there staring at an older him, happy and with no trace of worry or sadness hidden in his eyes as he basked in praise and warmth. "How?" he asked it in a pained whisper. "How do I get that?"

"Greyson," an aged and steady voice said from behind him. He turned quickly, barely stifling a gasp, to see Dumbledore standing behind him with . "Impressive, isn't it?"

"Not really." He didn't think there was anything impressive about a mirror that only showed him pain.

"No? And why's that?" Anger flared in Greyson's chest at the question and he stood up jerkily, approaching Dumbledore. He looked up into his eyes, breathing harsh and fast and feeling ready to yell and have a tantrum the likes of which he hadn't had since he was four. But those silver eyes, reminding Greyson of stars, seemed kind. All his anger and frustration collapsed like an uneven house of cards.

"All it shows is what I long for. And it's something that I don't think I will ever get." He found himself admitting in a small voice.

"Well, it is called the Mirror of Erised for a reason," he chuckled. "But that is a very wise approach to the mirror."

"Harry doesn't think of it the same."

"Oh?"

"No," he whispered. "He's been here looking every night... looking at something we can never get..." But as he said that he realized it was near impossible for there to be no other living relatives.

"Looking at what?" Dumbledore encouraged, obviously looking for more information. Greyson looked up at him again, not seeing him as _that_ trustworthy now that he had calmed down some. While the wizard world saw him as great, Greyson couldn't help but place the man at arms length. If Dumbledore was interested in Harry, he could ask him. Greyson wouldn't tell him what Harry's desires were. It wasn't his place.

The man's eyes did not hold the same warmth that any of the Weasleys (save for Percy) or Professor McGonagall had. It didn't make him feel safe and cared for, but rather like the man saw himself as a king and only cared if a pawn fell before it had been properly used for the greater good.

"He just sees himself going pro at Quidditch," Greyson said after a pause that didn't seem too long or too short. He noticed when people lied a lot of times they took either too long or too little time to answer and Greyson wouldn't make the same mistake. "But, I have to go and do some research, professor. Have a nice night." He moved past Dumbledore to go look in the library to learn more about the Potter and Evan's family tree. He looked behind himself several times on the way there, just to be sure Dumbledore wasn't following. Greyson wasn't going to trust him just because he was the headmaster.


	18. Chapter 18

"What do you mean you went sneaking out at night?" Hermione fussed while they sat in the Great Hall for lunch, the day before classes started back up.

"Harry was out every night going to look at the mirror," Greyson defended. "And while him and Ron were playing and what not, I was digging through more books and still I couldn't place where Nicholas Flamel is."

"Greyson and I found this mirror and it would show me my mum and dad," Harry explained, eyes still shining excitedly despite having experienced the vision multiple times. "Greyson even saw them. I had my mum's eyes. Didn't I Greyson?"

Greyson looked up and blinked. "Oh yeah," he confirmed quickly after a moment too long, caught off guard by that fact. "But we poked around in the restricted section, but we didn't get far. The first book Harry plucked from the shelf screamed at him and he dropped the lantern, smashing it. Nearly had Snape and Filch after us. A bloody mess that was. The dogs aren't even that bad."

"Harry, Greyson, you could have gotten _expelled_," Hermione stressed, looking traumatized at the very notion.

"But we didn't Hermione," Harry pointed out as he shoved potatoes in his mouth.

"But Fred and George were fun to hang out with," Greyson smiled. "Those two are bloody geniuses, though. We were working on some really cool pranks and gags. Didn't get very far, but it was fun."

"Greyson even brought us treats from the kitchens on Christmas," Ron chirped, adopting a dreamy look. Greyson was surprised not to see drool. What a lovable idiot.

Hermione looked behind her as Percy's unmistakable sniveling rose above the noise of the Great Hall and frowned as her eyes caught on the area where Percy's black and silver tie, prefect blazer that had a black and white braid on it, and even his prefect badge were noticeably missing. "What happened to Percy's prefect uniform? He always wears it."

"Oh, McGonagall took it from him," George informed her happily as him and Fred each sat on a different side of Greyson.

"Apparently, McGonagall doesn't care much for bigots," Fred chimed in happily. "Oh, Greyson, you left this in our room. Jordan was confused about this dragon book in his bed."

"I was wondering where I put that," Greyson said, taking the book back quickly and checking it over fretfully.

Hermione frowned, obviously trying in vain to piece together the puzzle before her without all the parts. "Why was-?"

"McGonagall let me stay in Gryffindor for the break," Greyson explained. "Fred and George let me stay in their room and Percy was an ass because I was allowed to stay in Gryffindor."

"I didn't know that could be done," she murmured and sat in quiet contemplation about how the rules worked about that sort of thing. Her mutters were a familiar and soothing backdrop as Greyson lovingly began reading through his tome once again.

Greyson enjoyed the bustle of school starting back up. It was nice to have something productive to occupy his mind that he could actually make progress in, unlike his efforts in trying to learn about Flamel. Harry hardly had any freetime with Quidditch practice happening, and neither did Fred and George with their own classwork and activities. That left most of the work to him, which would be fine if he had something to go off of at the very least.

Greyson sat with Ron and Hermione while they waited for Harry to get back from practice. He smiled and waved his brother over when he saw him enter the Great Hall, but it slipped away when he saw his face twisted in upset.

"What's the matter?" he asked worriedly as Harry slumped at the table.

"Snape's coaching the next game," he told them quietly as he leaned into Greyson for comfort.

"That's great," Greyson smiled, while Hermione and Ron said in unison, "That's terrible."

Both of them looked at Greyson and he looked back in confusion. "What? If Snape's refereeing than he can keep a better eye on Harry and stop Quirrell from his nonsense."

"Snape was the one who tried to kill me," Harry huffed, exasperated. "Not to mention he _hates_ Gryffindor. If we make the slightest error or get close to overtaking Slytherin, he'll call us out. _And_ he was _threatening _Quirrell, not lecturing him."

"I'm sure it will be fine Harry," Greyson tried to reassure him, setting a hand on Harry's arm. "You're an amazing Quidditch player and you don't break any of the rules. It'll be fine."

"Of course you'd say that," Harry rolled his eyes. "You're his class pet."

"No I'm not!" Greyson squawked, pulling back. "I am not a class pet."

"He gives you like a zillion points every class lately," Harry pointed out wryly.

"Hermione, is he being serious?" Greyson asked, looking for someone more logical than emotional to help him out. He met her eyes and beseeched her to see reason.

"Well..." she trailed off, looking uncomfortable at being dragged in the middle of their disagreement. Greyson felt bad for a moment but he wasn't walking back now. She rallied after a moment and met his eyes head on. "Harry is right, Snape does tend to like you more than anyone in the class, except maybe Malfoy, ever since you stood up to him. I feel like he's been testing you since then, and… and you passed, I suppose. I've been trying to figure out what you did to get him to let up and I can't figure it out but he seems almost impressed with you lately. He gives you about 50 points per class. _It is infuriating." _For a moment, she seems almost red in the face at the effort she's putting in to explaining the situation without having a solution. After another moment she calmed and then added one last thought, but doesn't seem to be pleased with her final conclusion. "He is also your head of house, which may be part of it."

"What does him being the head of Slytherin have to do with anything?" he asked sullenly, not ready to admit defeat yet.

"Well, it does change your perception of things," she pointed out patiently.

"I sort of hate my house sometimes," Greyson said. "Though the lake view is cool, I still don't like anyone in it… I don't understand why I was put in Slytherin, honestly. I don't feel like one."

"You like Malfoy, though," Ron squeaked. "You and him talk every time in potions class."

"He's my partner and I do well in all my classes," He told them forcefully, brushing off the accusations with a physical wave. "You guys are being ridiculous." He rolled his eyes and pointedly ignored all their worried looks directed right at him. "Listen, I'm going to the common room to work on my potions report. I'll see you all at breakfast." Those three were _always_ thinking the worst when it came to Snape. Sure, even he was very suspicious at first, and is still a little suspicious now, but Snape didn't come across as _cruel _or _mean _to him. Strict, yes. Demanding, yes. But not a killer or anything like that… Right?

"Snake skin," Greyson said once he made it to his house's entry wall. Walking into the common room, he shook off the doubts his friends had planted in him. He only had a few professors he trusted to even a small degree, and he was reluctant to let go of the only one he had gained favor with without noticing, by just being himself. It was one of the few things _he _had to be proud of since starting at Hogwarts that didn't have anything to do with Harry. He sat down in one of the empty chairs in the common room and started trying to read his potions book to distract him from his quickly spiralling thoughts.

"Potter never suspected a thing!" he heard Malfoy's nasally and loud voice boom from the other side of the room and his head whipped around to search him out before he could stop himself. He was back! Their room had seemed almost lonely lately without his snide comments. A rush of warmth and relief filled his chest before abruptly plummeting out of his body and through the floor as the words registered in Greyson's mind. Malfoy had a huge grin on his face as he boasted, "I gave him a dragon book and he never even knew it was me!"

Greyson blinked. Malfoy? Malfoy gave him his book on dragons? If he gave him that... then he gave Greyson the one on the lineage of wizards. The handwriting had undoubtedly been the same. He sat there staring at the only person he believed to sometimes be as big of an ass as Percy and Uncle Vernon when he got in a mood and _he_ gave him two of the books he absolutely cherished?

Eventually he gathered his wits and ignored his rabbiting heart and Malfoy's continuing conversation to make his way to their dorm room in a daze. A few minutes later Malfoy joined him, sitting at the desk like he was a king on his throne and brushing through the gel in his hair without even glancing at his roommate. Greyson swallowed as he took a deep breath in preparation to talk to Malfoy. He'd just strike up a sort of friendly conversation and then ask him why he'd give him gifts secretly. Easy. "How is your report going for Potions class?" he asked.

Malfoy looked up at him, as if startled he'd spoken first. "Oh, it's going well," he drawled, trying to sound snobby and indifferent but failing and just sounding unsure and defensive. Was he as awkward at this as Greyson was? The thought was strangely comforting.

"That's good," he nodded and stared at Malfoy's side of the room that was as barren as his save for the handful of extra posh things he had. "How was your holiday?"

Mal- Draco frowned. "It was fine. We held the annual Winter Ball at our estate."

"Estate?" Greyson repeated incredulously before nodding. Actually, that sounded like Malfoy. He couldn't imagine him growing up in anything _other _than an estate. "You must have one _big_ house."

"Big doesn't even cover it," Draco preened. "It's like a small castle. It's in Wiltshire."

"That's cool," Greyson smiled, glad they were relaxing with each other. "It must have been great growing up in a place like that."

The flash of sadness on Draco's face took him by surprise but it was soon replaced by an air of what Greyson was learning was forced happiness and pride. "It was," he insisted a little too intently, regaining that snobby demeanor, and striking a chord with Greyson. Suddenly, Greyson felt _worried_ for him. How bad was his home life? If he had everything he could want (an estate!), then what could make him upset about his home? Did he have his own Uncle Vernon to deal with?

Greyson looked at the floor, trying to think of what to say despite his suddenly dry throat, when Draco suddenly stood up. "I think I'll take my bath and then turn in. Goodnight, Potter." He gathered his things quickly before leaving the room, avoiding even looking in Greyson's direction the whole time.

Greyson frowned as he stared at the door Malfoy had just practically ran out of. Who exactly was Draco underneath that armor he had on? Draco gave him books and bragged about his generosity and apparently had a gorgeous estate but Draco also acted like an ass to everyone unless he could secretly send them gifts, it seemed. But why? Draco was a much more complex and layered person than Greyson had initially believed and he was ready to peel back those layers now that there was a Slytherin he _wanted _to be friends with. He had no idea how to become friends with people, even though he had a few now. But as he looked to his bed at the gifts he had been given, he decided Draco was worth him trying.


	19. Chapter 19

Draco was already gone by the time Greyson had awoken the next morning. Was he being avoided now? He sighed and started to dress, disappointed that Draco wasn't there to talk to, hoping that this wouldn't become a regular occurence.

He made his way to the Great Hall in a sort of daze only borne from more than a full night's sleep and felt his thoughts snap to some semblance of clarity when the Gryffindor table came into view. Ron, Harry, and Hermione were all sitting with gleaming eyes and excited chatter filling the air around them. "What did I miss?" he groused, sitting down in his usual spot by Harry. He relished having elbow room since the twins weren't at breakfast yet.

"We learned who Nicholas Flamel is!" Hermione said excitedly.

"Oh?" Greyson leaned forward eagerly, casting off the rest of the sleep that had been clinging to him.

"He's the only known creator of the philosopher's stone," she whispered and looked around in a way that was distinctly suspicious. He'd have to give her lessons on keeping secrets, it seems.

When the words fully hit, Greyson's eyes widened. "The philosopher's stone," he repeated, sitting back. He bit his lip as he thought back to what he had read about it in his book of Magical Artifacts. It had the ability to turn normal objects to gold when in the same water as the stone and it could grant immortality to any who drank the water. It was one of the most sought after artifacts of all time and also one with too many legends and not enough leads to accurately look into without more information. "If that's the case then the question now is… why is Quirrell after it?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Harry asked in a grave tone. "Snape wants to use it to become rich and live forever to torment students."

Greyson raised his brows at that. "That doesn't exactly sound right. I mean money is alright, but that doesn't feel like a real reason for the stone. He probably gets paid enough as a professor and I mean, he doesn't exactly seem happy about being anywhere around students."

"See? He is working for Snape," Ron squeaked, obviously having made a conspiracy theory about them working together. Greyson couldn't help his bark of laughter and that Ron's fear only seemed to magnify at the sound of it had him choking back another round of chuckles.

"No, I'm just being logical," He corrected, shaking his head. "Obviously, whatever is going on involving the stone is much more complex than what we are seeing. I mean someone broke into Gringotts to try and get it, and they were willing to risk death for it. But how did you find out anyway?"

"Harry read it on Dumbledore's chocolate frog card," Ron whispered as his eyes scanned Greyson for the third time. Such paranoia.

"And Hermione remembered it in her giant book," Harry added. Hermione preened next to Ron, seemingly unaware of Ron's distress due to his conspiracy theories.

"Ah," Greyson nodded and stood when he caught sight of Draco heading to their Potions lesson. "I'll see you three after potions." He gave his brother a half-hug, Hermione a wave, and Ron an exaggeratedly evil grin. His fearful squeaks and stutters saw him off as he started off towards Draco.

"But you didn't even eat," Harry protested. Greyson groaned and accepted the scone and indulgent smile from his brother before truly heading off.

"Draco," Greyson greeted when he finally caught up with the blonde. "How did your potions report turn out?"

"Fine," he grunted. "Don't see why you're worried about it, Potter."

Greyson rolled his eyes but attempted a friendly smile. "I'm not. It's just friendly conversation, Draco. You don't have to be an ass every time I talk to you." He pursed his lips as Crabbe and Goyle came right up behind them, chuckling and snickering about something or other. "Crabbe, Goyle, Malfoy will meet you in class." The two looked at him in surprise but seemed to accept that he should be listened to after a moment. They nodded and waddled off. "They really should lay off the sweets."

"What do you want?" he asked quietly, not quite so snobby now that his lackies had wandered off.

Greyson took a deep breath before starting with diffculty, "I want to... try and... be friends." His heart was stuttering as he thought of what to do if he was rejected. He looked at Draco to see if there was any hint of a reply in his icy blue eyes, but all he saw was shock. He could work with that. Friends were all about being honest with each other, right? "We got off on the wrong foot and I would like to try and start again, if that would be alright." Those pale blues seemed to thaw a little before icing right back over.

"Fine," he huffed, haughty attitude firmly back in place. "If that's what you want." He turned on his heel and disappeared into the classroom, but not before Greyson got a glimpse of the pale flush on his cheeks and hands tightly balled into fists at his sides. A sigh forced its way out of his chest and he took a bite out of his scone. He knew what he saw in Draco's eyes was enough to convince him that Draco wanted a real friendship too.

He finished his scone slowly, trying to give Draco enough time to loosen up, before going into class. "Morning Professor," Greyson greeted cheerfully as he made his way to his potion pot with Draco.

"Potter," Professor Snape drawled in recognition. Now that his friends had brought it up, he would watch more closely to see if Snape did favor him to some degree. He pulled out his report for Snape and started looking over the potion they had to make today. Nervoreum, or a paralysis potion. There were several different versions based on what was used as the main ingredient in the potion, all eight of which they had to research and write about for their report. It had been a welcome challenge while he was bored a few times during the break.

"Do you think Snape is going to let us pick which paralysis potion we make?" Greyson wondered, looking over the recipe. "Honestly, I think the one made of jelly barbs would be the best."

"Jelly barbs?" Draco repeated incredulously. "It would be rattlesnake fangs."

"Actually, it would be snake venom. Rattlesnake fangs are used for growth potions and their rattles are for Jitter Draughts," he told him, having thought the same before choosing to do his report on all eight variations of the exact potion they would be doing today rather than its history like Harry.

"Correct, Potter," Snape said, dark eyebrows raised to his hairline. Ah, a question is coming. "And what of snake skin?"

"It's put into Rejuvenation Serums," he answered after a moment of thought.

"Correct, ten points to Slytherin," Snape declared as the last person entered the room. His long, pale fingers brushed the desk in what Greyson was learning to be his professor's unique way of saying _good job._ He heard the Gryffindors all groan but couldn't find it in himself to feel anything other than pride. "Besides jelly bards and snake venom, what else can be used for a paralysis potion?" He looked over the class, skipping over Hermione who was on the edge of her seat and waving her hand eagerly. "Longbottom."

Neville shriveled up in fear of Snape's intense black gaze. "Uh... Glory horns?"

"10 points from Gryffindor," Snape snapped. "Greyson Potter."

"Red spotted horned slugs, purple striped glory poppers, not to be mistaken for the blue striped glory popper which will make your paralysis potion a Gaudium Aphrosia, or a jubilation tonic. There are also bee stingers, cicuta root, lathyrus beans, and dwale leaves. All of them create a varying strength in the Nervoreum, jelly barbs make the most effective potion, commonly compared to the Draught of Living Death."

"Correct, ten more points to Slytherin," Snape's small smirk didn't escape Greyson's notice and realized his friends may have been right about a few things. "Now, each group will create a different version of this potion with one of the eight ingriedents. Remember that the instructions change based on the main ingredient. Once you have been given your ingredient, you may begin." He went around the room giving each group their ingredient before stopping at Greyson and Draco. "You two will have jelly barbs. This is the most difficult of the potions. I trust you will not mess it up."

Greyson nodded with a smile and started the fire for their cauldron before adding the powdered lizard lung and fisheye jelly. "Do you mind cutting up the milkweed stems?" He asked as he stirred the pot and waited for it to turn the right shade of blue. Getting no response, he turned to Draco, who was… staring at him? Blue eyes widened in alarm and his head whipped around toward the ingredients so fast Greyson was concerned he'd get whiplash.

"How did you remember all of the stuff about the potion?" Draco mumbled as he quickly dissected the milkweed and added it to their mixture. "Is it the right color yet?"

"Not yet, almost though," Greyson answered, blocking the cutting board until Draco put down the rest. "And I remembered it from the beginning of the year." He kept his eye on the potion and saw the moment it turned bright blue. "Okay… now." Pulling out his wand, he whispered, "Motus tardus," causing the spoon to start a slow constant stirring. He put on his dragon hide gloves and grabbed the jelly barbs and set the barbs in their mortar. As he mashed them, he took a moment to see if his partner seemed okay. It wasn't like him to zone out so easily, but whatever had come over him he seemed to have moved past it now.

Draco was reading over the potion for the next step as Greyson hummed, working from memory alone. "We need to… Grate the horse chestnut into the cauldron and stop once the potion turns turquoise, not to be confused with sea blue seafoam," Greyson nodded as he grabbed the strainer to get the juice from the barbs before mashing them more with the mortar. Draco stared at him again and Greyson met his stare head on this time, his eyebrows rising, before Draco nodded and started to help. They worked together easily, moving around each other in a way that had been honed over several experiments just like this one.

"Should I read out what we do next or do you already know?" Draco drawled, looking at Greyson. He closed his eyes for a moment, picturing his potion books in front of him. After a minute or so he grabbed some dried juniper berries and minced them. He sprinkled them in a little at a time until it became just the right shade of turquoise.

"There, now the mashed jelly barbs and a pinch of powdered larkspur," Greyson said as it turned a light pink. "We let it simmer for an hour while continuously stirring before adding the jelly barb juice." Snape passed by as they were wiping down their hands and looked at their cauldron, sniffing the air imperiously.

"Smells like salt water taffy," he commented. Those sharp eyebrows raised and Greyson prepared for a question. "And it's the right shade of pink. Have you added the jelly barb juice?"

"Not yet, we're waiting for its hour of simmering to be done before we add it," Greyson repeated, finding his eyes seeking out Snape's for a hint of approval. Snape nodded and it didn't escape his attention that Snape had the slightest hint of a smile as he continued on to test another group. "Bloody hell," he whispered slowly. "I can't believe it."

"What?" Draco asked, looking at him.

"Snape does favor me. I'm a bloody teacher's pet."

"Of course he does. All he ever does when someone messes up is talk about how well you do with the potions and how advanced you are to not need the book."

"He does? I never heard anyone mention him saying that."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You always have your nose in a book when he's talking."

Greyson felt his ears tinge pink. "Oh," he said, slowly removing his hand from the book he was just about to start reading.

"What are you reading?"

"Oh, a book I got for Christmas… Dragon's of the Wizarding Realm. It's very detailed and a great read."

"Looks expensive. Who got it for you?"

He opened his mouth to confront Draco about the book, but changed his mind. "I don't know," he hedged. "It was anonymous, but whoever did get it for me, I'm going to be forever grateful for this and the book on Wizard Family Lineages. They're both my favorites."

He watched as Draco puffed up his chest, pleased with himself and Greyson was glad he didn't confront Draco. Seeing him truly happy warmed his heart more than letting him know that he knew. "Well, I guess whoever gave them to you has great taste and money."

"Yeah," Greyson nodded, trying not to break out in a large grin as Draco only seemed to puff up even more at the agreement. How cute.


	20. Chapter 20

Greyson shuffled his way over to where Ron and Hermione were sitting, conversing quietly. "Hey," he greeted them cheerfully from his spot on the stands, feeling a smile come naturally to his face. It felt nice.

"Where were you this morning?" Hermione asked, her eyes narrowing.

"I was eating with Malfoy," Greyson shrugged. "He was telling me some stories of him playing Quidditch at home. Not sure _how_ true they are since he seems prone to exaggeration, but they were interesting enough."

"Since when are you friends with Malfoy?" Ron queried, mimicking Hermione's expression. "He's a sneaky Slytherin who'd stab you in the back quick."

"I don't think he's as bad as you give him credit for, Ron," Greyson sighed with an eye roll for good measure.

"He put a leg locker curse on Neville," Hermione chimed in.

"I didn't say he was bad, just not _as_ bad."

"Hey, look!" Ron shouted as he pointed across the field. "Dumbledore came to watch."

"He must really be concerned about Quirrell." Surely he realized something was wrong, and was looking out for the students. He's the headmaster, so he must have a plan of his own. Now Greyson just had to figure out what it was.

"If he's so concerned about Snape, then why did he let him be the referee?" Hermione's brow was scrunched in deep thought.

"Well, at least Snape won't do anything with Dumbledore here," Ron breathed a sigh of relief, every muscle in his body relaxing. What a stupidly trusting moron he could be sometimes. Greyson bit back correcting them about Snape, and dedicated himself to looking after them and making sure their trusting natures didn't get them in trouble. People who thought they were doing what was best were the most dangerous. Anything could be justified with enough righteous fury. It was useless at this point to even try to change their minds, though. He would just be another Slytherin standing up for a Slytherin professor, even if they were friends. They were so dead set on Snape being the cause of everything that they were blind. Greyson wouldn't be.

They watched as Snape awarded Hufflepuff two penalties. Once because one of the twins hit Snape with a bludger and the second for no clear reason as far as Greyson could tell. "You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team," some Slytherin started.

"Don't," Greyson warned with as much irritation injected in his voice as possible. He slowly turned around and saw that it was Crabbe's older brother, Gregory.

"Oh, shut up you Gryffindor lover," he sneered, his splotchy face twisting up unattractively in his contempt.

"What the hell kind of insult is that?"

Gregory ignored him and continued on, laughing nastily in between sentences. "They just pick the ones that they feel sorry for. Weasleys have no money, Potter has no parents."

"Longbottom should be on the team then," Draco's voice carried over the crowd and locked eyes with Greyson. He had finally decided to speak up, it seems, and he couldn't find it in himself to honestly be angry when those eyes twinkled so mischievously. Greyson didn't want to be in on that kind of joke, though. "He has no brains."

"I'm worth twelve of you Malfoy," Neville muttered.

"You tell him," Ron encouraged. He instantly stopped when Draco started staring him down.

"Draco, stop," Greyson said, exasperated, and watched as his blonde hair bounced slightly with the force he turned away. A dismissive sniff was his only answer, but Greyson could live with that. Progress.

"Oh! Ron, Greyson! Harry!" Hermione shouted excitedly, grabbing both their shoulders. Harry was flying straight towards the ground at something that was glinting gold. _The snitch _,Greyson realized after a second.

"Guess Potter found some money for you," Draco snickered. Before Greyson could blink, Ron launched himself at Malfoy. Before he knew it he dragged into the melee, trying to break it up. If Greyson was honest, it wasn't much of a fight. Mostly Ron and Draco were rolling around on the floor of the stands.

"He did it!" Hermione squealed distantly, her eyes glued to the match. Greyson managed to poke his head up as the fighting subsided at the sudden cheering. "Harry won the game!" Greyson's heart filled with pride at his little brother and he struggled to his feet as the stands emptied out to greet the Gryffindor team and congratulate them."Gryffindor's in the lead!"

Before they could reach Harry, he felt a pit form in his stomach as Dumbledore spoke to Harry quietly and his brother was overjoyed. But why shouldn't he be? He just won the game for his house and it was extraordinary by how Hermione was acting. He finished making his way to Harry, trying and failing to shake the feeling that Dumbledore shouldn't be near his brother.

After the match Greyson was waiting with Ron and Hermione in the courtyard and trying to ignore Ron moaning, "Where is he?"

"Maybe he got lost," Greyson offered, laying on the ground.

"He couldn't have," Hermione said with a shake of her head. "He goes to the broomshed all the time."

"Guys!" Harry's excited voice carried over the grounds. "I've got to tell you something!" Greyson sat up to hear him out, but before he could get a word out, Harry cut him off. "Not here."

They all shared a curious look and followed, eager to hear whatever had Harry so excited. Once they were in one of the practice rooms, Harry shut the door. "Snape was asking Quirrell if he knew how to get past Fluffy," Harry said. "He was threatening him about it and asking about the stone. He told him to 'think about where his loyalties lie'."

"That does make Snape suspicious," Greyson allowed, despite his gut screaming that something was missing. Something vital.

"That means the stone's only safe as long as Quirrell resists Snape," Harry added.

"There's bound to be loads protecting the stone besides Fluffy," Hermione hypothesized. "All sorts of spells and enchantments."

"There is," Greyson confirmed, listing them off when he had all of their attention. "Devil's snare, winged keys, a giant chess board. I don't know what's past that since I didn't know how to play."

"Is that why you had the sudden interest to learn?" Ron asked, his poor mind desperately trying to catch up.

"Mostly, yeah."

"Wait, when did you learn all this?" Harry questioned. "And why didn't you tell me?"

"I was showing Fred and George Fluffy, Coal, and Rascal and they noticed the trapdoor, so we went in. I didn't tell any of you because I wanted to get more information first. It wasn't important at that time. I didn't know until just now what those traps were protecting. How was I supposed to know it was relevant to what we're doing?"

"We agreed to keep each other in the loop, and you wanted to keep me in the dark." The accusation stung but Greyson wouldn't give in to that guilt trip so obviously when Harry would have done the same thing.

"I didn't. It just wasn't necessary or important until just now! Harry, that's the only reason I didn't just come out and tell you." He tried to imject as much sincerity in his voice as possible, and his brother faltered. Fighting was not what they needed to do now, and Greyson just needed Harry to see that. Although he pursed his lips, his brother didn't argue at least.

"At least we have some idea as to what's guarding the stone," Hermione allowed. She looked intrigued and already had her notebook open. "We should brush up on our chess skills, though."

"Good plan… Ron should start a wizard chess club so he can challenge everyone who is good at the game, since he's the best at it of all of us," Greyson cut off Harry and Hermione's protests without missing a beat. "Honestly, Harry and Hermione, you're both really bad for your own special reasons and I lose against Ron half the time."

"Brilliant idea," Hermione admitted reluctantly, looking cross but not upset. Good. Greyson wouldn't apologize for the truth, but he would apologize for hurting her feelings if he had to. "I'm sure Professor McGonagall will gladly support that. Ron should practice at least twice a week after classes. We can go talk to her about it after class Monday." With everyone in agreement of their plan, they left to go to their common rooms and gather their thoughts.

Greyson fell onto his bed, feeling drained from all that had happened today. "How are you doing? I know Ron was proud of the insults he's been practicing."

"I'm just fine. Like _he_ could upset _me_," Draco sniffed. "Why are you even friends with him? He's poor and comes from a terrible lineage."

"I was poor and my mother was a mudblood. What are you trying to say?" He looked to Draco and waited for his response, but none came. Those blue eyes looked so conflicted, and his mouth was slack, but Greyson wouldn't hold his tongue this time. If they were to be friends, this is something Draco would need to change his view on. "You tend to be an insufferable ass and I'm your friend as well, you know. Honestly, you tend to be unnecessarily mean, Draco."

"What are you talking about?"

"You were being mean to Neville for no reason and are constantly talking about the Weasleys being poor. Why does their lack of wealth seem to be your focus? How much money they have has nothing to say about _them _as people." Draco didn't answer, that look coming over his face again, and picked at his robe. Greyson sighed and saw him flinch out of the corner of his eye. Making an effort to gentle his voice, he hummed, "Don't be mean just because. Half of the time the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws aren't even doing anything. For some reason you think you need to start drama that doesn't need to happen. It's the reason me and you didn't get along at first… because you kept being insulting and rude." Draco's face flushed red, and he opened his mouth to say something that would undoubtedly prove Greyson's point, but he cut him off with one last thing to think on. "But, I know you better now. Despite your behavior, you can be really nice and pleasant when you want to be. It's one of the many reasons I'm your friend."

He watched as Draco turned a light shade of red and felt his chest warm at his denial, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't." Greyson allowed him that at least, and graciously ignored a certain stuffed animal being pulled out before getting ready for bed.


	21. Chapter 21

"Why do all the teachers have to give us so much work?" Harry whined, throwing his head back dramatically and dropping his quill. Greyson slowly looked up from the book he was reading just to give Harry a deadpan look when he righted himself.

"Because we need to prepare for our exams," Hermione tutted without even deigning to glance at anyone else. "Honestly, we should have been preparing months ago."

"Hermione, I think you're overreacting, and Harry it's honestly no more than what we had last semester," Greyson reasoned. "Besides, I'm here to help you. I've finished my assignments."

"Well, we can't all be book nerds," Ron shot back, irritable and depressed from such a long study session.

"Nor can we all be chess masters," Greyson replied easily and didn't rise to the bait Ron was setting. Enough studying sessions had been cut short by people getting snippy, and he wouldn't allow it this time. Exams were so close, and Harry needed to pass so he could keep his spot in the Quidditch team. "You don't see me complaining. Oh, how is your club going?"

The distraction worked and he ignored the pulse of warmth in his chest as Ron grinned brightly and leaned forward to gush, "Brilliant! I beat Seamus at a game yesterday."

"That's good," Greyson smiled encouragingly and noticed Hagrid's large form approaching in the corner of his eye, turning to wave in greeting. "Hello, Hagrid."

" 'Ello, 'Arry, Ron, 'Ermione, an' Greyson," Hagrid listed warmly and his eyes fell to the books. "Don't tell me yer still lookin' fer Flamel."

"Oh, we found out about him already," Harry dismissed the idea with a flap of the hand. "We know all about him and the stone."

"And that's what Fluffy, Rascal, and Coal are guarding with all sorts of other things," Greyson informed him of the most important finding, since it didn't look like Harry was going to give Hagrid any more information as long as the books in front of him were causing him to look as if he had constipation.

"And I started a wizard chess club," Ron told him proudly and puffed up his chest for extra effect.

"You lot need to stay out of that," Hagrid warned, even as he rested a hand on Ron's head and gave him an affectionate ruffle.

"Well, Dumbledore hired whoever wants to steal the stone," Greyson pointed out. Hagrid started, becoming all flustered as he grumbled out a goodbye and grabbed a book before shuffling out. "What was he looking for in the library?"

"I don't know," Ron admitted, going over to where Hagrid had been and snooping around a bit. He came back with a thick book that smelled of smoke. "That's the section about dragons."

"Hagrid mentioned to me that he wanted a dragon," Harry piped up, "He told me when we were in Diagon Alley!"

"You don't think..." Greyson trailed off. Surely Hagrid wouldn't go and get a dragon without telling anyone, right?

"It's possible, but where would he get one?" Hermione hummed from her section of the table.

"Maybe..." Greyson trailed off. Hermione met his eyes and gestured to the door. He nodded, getting up and heading out, leaving Ron and Harry to scramble to catch up behind them.

"What are you two talking about?" Ron asked.

"I hate it when you both speak like you have a code language," Harry agreed.

"Hagrid got a dragon! Or is looking to get one, obviously," Greyson said exasperatedly. "Why else would he start researching dragons?" He didn't even look back to see the look of understanding dawning on Ron and Harry's faces. They made their way across the grounds quickly, heading for Hagrid's hut.

Greyson knocked on the door and heard Fang's lazy, loud barks. "Hush, Fang," he heard Hagrid shouting behind the door, and then closer, "Who is it?"

"It's us," Greyson shouted. The door opened and they crowded in around the fireplace after Hagrid stepped aside. A large fire was already blazing.

"What are you doing, Hagrid? It's quite hot in here." Hermione asked carefully as Hagrid closed the door to the sweltering hut. Greyson decided to follow his suspicions and moved to peer into the fireplace, where he saw something round glittering amidst the flames.

"What's in the fire?" he questioned carefully, studying the way the fire seemed to wrap around the object as it suddenly started to shake.

"Oh!" Hagrid said excitedly, grabbing a pair of tongs to get it out of the fire. Greyson could see more clearly now that it was indeed a dragon egg, golden in color and wrapped in dragon scales of various shades. He sat the egg on the table as it continued to shake. Everyone was holding their breath, eyes trained on the hatching egg. With a sharp sound, cracks began to spread along its surface. Soon enough a piece of shell popped off, the rest quickly following as the baby dragon finally tumbled out, eager to break free. "Aw, look at 'im," Hagrid cooed, cut off by the little one sneezing a burst of flames right onto his beard. Greyson resisted the urge to laugh at his panicked grumbles and frantic movements, instead moving to help him put out his facial hair.

"Hagrid, it's illegal to have a dragon," Hermione already starting on her lecture. "It is against law 49A to possess one, because the secrecy of magic could be uncovered!"

"He'll be fine," Hagrid dismissed her growing shrieks as the little baby dragon moved to curl up to the gentle giant, gently sniffling. "Aw, he knows I'm 'is mum!"

Ron suddenly spoke up after his intense studying of the dragon, his excitement palpable, "I know what he is! He's a Norwegian Ridgeback. My brother Charley studies them in Romania."

Greyson nodded excitedly. "He is! He has the tell-tale spine going down his back," A pause, "Hagrid, you know Norwegian Ridgebacks are known for being extremely territorial, right?"

"I've been studying up on them," Hagrid defended himself as he clutched the hatchling tighter. "Besides, I trained Fluffy, Rascal, Coal, and Fluffy."

"Yeah, but both cerberi and dogs are known for making pack bonds. Dragons, especially Ridgebacks, are known for being territorial," Greyson pointed out softly. He hoped he didn't upset Hagrid too much, but this couldn't be left alone. "And your hut is pretty flammable."

"You need to get rid of him," Hermione pushed, hands on her hips. "You could get in serious trouble."

Greyson rolled his eyes, shooting her a glare at her unnecessarily harsh word choice, as Hagrid rumbled, "Nonsense, he's just a baby." Another glare from Greyson ensured they all left it alone for now. Hagrid would vehemently go against any sound logic when it came to an animal he cared about. They'd have to find another way to make him see reason.

In the coming weeks, Greyson spent more time at Hagrid's helping with the dragon than anything else. They had affectionately named him Norbert and he was a delight. Greyson did have to admit after a while that (for a dragon) Norbert was very well behaved, despite accidentally almost setting Hagrid's hut on fire a few times. It turns out dragons can have allergies and their sneezes are very hard to control. He also made sure Fluffy, Rascal, and Coal were taken care of while Hagrid focused on training Norbert.

After a month however, Hagrid's hut was becoming quite cramped. Norbert had doubled in size in such a short time, and if this trend kept up they had a real problem. "Hagrid," Greyson started one evening as the five of them were attempting to have tea in the cramped hut. "I don't think a hut is a good place for Norbert."

"Where would he go?" Hagrid asked with a frown that was dangerously close to a pout. "I can't just kick him out. He'd never survive."

"I know! My brother Charley could take him!" Ron suggested excitedly. "He'd make sure Norbert was safe and cared for."

"No!" Hagrid said petulantly. Now he was just being contrary.

"But, Hagrid, he'd be happier if he was somewhere he could spread his wings," Hermione reasoned, and as if on cue, Norbert knocked over one of the pots with his tail and scared himself into a corner.

"But, what if the other dragons are mean to him?" Hagrid henned, twisting his large hands nervously.

"Well, you have to trust that he can handle himself, and trust that Charley will keep an eye on him," Greyson took his hand and met his eyes with a reassuring smile. "And trust yourself that you've taught him well." He glanced at Harry, remembering the panic and terror he felt when he couldn't watch over his little brother himself.

"I don' know," Hagrid grumbled, not liking the idea of releasing Norbert out into the world. After a bit more convincing and a couple more knocked over items, they finally got Hagrid to grudgingly agree to let Norbert go with Charley to Romania. Greyon would make sure they got lots of pictures, and everything was taken care of when Hagrid inevitably worked himself into a right worry and needed to go see Norbert for himself.


	22. Chapter 22

"How are we going to even smuggle a dragon out?" Ron asked while rubbing the knots out of his shoulders. He'd done most of the picking up around the cabin after Hermione frowned at him for trying to leave without helping. What a lovable pushover. As they sat outside mulling over their predicament and enjoying the growing warmth as the snow melted away, Hermione paced a few feet away with a hand to her chin and a constant mumble creating a surprisingly soothing backdrop. If she was putting this much thought into it, they would find a way.

"I don't know yet, but it'd have to be at night," she answered distractedly. "No one can see Norbert."

"Well, what if we used the cloak?" Harry pipes up from his spot sunbathing on Ron's other side. He looked so unconcerned it was actually a little annoying.

"That could work," Greyson confirmed, his stern glance toward his brother going unseen. He sighed. "Ron, has Charlie written back yet?"

"Not yet," Ron frowned, shaking his head.

Greyson nodded, thinking hard for a few more moments and coming up with nothing they hadn't already thrown around, and then laid back as well. If you couldn't beat 'em, join 'em. Maybe Harry was on to something because a realization came to him. "We could meet him in the Astrology tower on a Saturday. Professor Sinistra doesn't hold classes then. When he does write back, if he can take Norbert, ask him if he could come on a Saturday."

"Alright," Ron hummed, joining them in their lounging as well.

"And you three can meet me in the Great Hall," Greyson added. "We can head to Hagrid's hut together." Three voices rose in confirmation, and his chest felt full in a weird way that made him want to doze off rather than confront the feeling. He allowed his eyes to close slowly while Hermione settled down on his side opposite Ron. He trusted they'd wake him when it was time to go.

A few days after their conversation, Ron got everything arranged with his brother to gather up Norbert. Greyson found himself joining in their high five before he'd even realized it. As he watched them smile and laugh in relief, he found himself joining in that too.

Greyson hid in the shadows of the hallway with Hermione waiting for Harry and Ron. They had decided to divide and conquer so they didn't all seem suspicious sneaking around as a group, but the anxiety of being caught and failing Hagrid was making it hard to think it a wise decision now. He pressed in closer to the wall as footsteps starting to echo in the hall, desperately wanting it to be his brother instead of Filch and his cat. The figure stopped before they were identifiable from his lookout, and he tensed as his prepared excuse shot to the tip of his tongue. He nearly sagged in relief when he heard Harry whisper, "Greyson. Hermione. Get under the cloak with me so we can go see Hagrid." He lifted the cloak to allow them to move under with him .

"Where's Ron?" Greyson asked, noticing the lack of Harry's gangly red headed shadow.

"He's resting in the tower," Harry explained with a frown that radiated worry. "Norbert gave him a nasty bite." Greyson found himself frowning as well but nodded, making a note to check on Ron in the morning. There was no telling if Ron could have caught some disease from Norbert and if he had to _carry _him to the nurse tomorrow he would.

They made their way towards Hagrid's hut slowly, hunched over and avoiding elbows to the side rather unsuccessfully in Greyson's case. This was going to be even more difficult with Norbert under the cloak as well... "Maybe I should follow behind," Greyson hedged. He seriously doubted all of them fitting under the cloak with Norbert.

"But Filch could catch you," Harry protested.

"I'll be fine," Greyson told them. "You three need it more than me."

"If you're sure," Hermione said hesitantly, but he could tell she had been contemplating the same issue as him because she looked pretty relieved as well.

"I am," he confirmed in a tone that brooked no more discussion about it.

He helped them get Norbert settled between Harry and Hermione and Greyson set out to scout the way ahead. He was much better dressed for an overnight covert mission since he had been smart and tried to cover any possibility, including something happening to the cloak. He couldn't say the same of Hermione and Harry, who hadn't bothered to change out of their maroon and gold sweaters. That arrogance could get them or the Gryffindor house easily recognized should anything go wrong, and Greyson made a mental note to bring it up to them later.

He blinked when a familiar shock of silvery blond hair caught his eye and quickly disappeared around the corner. "Draco," he hissed as he quickly approached the blond, and graciously ignored his irritated scowl at being discovered snooping. "What are you doing here?"

"Your brother, Weasley, and that Granger girl are planning some sort of dragon thing," Draco accused, shoving his nose in the air. "I overheard them in the Great Hall. Honestly, they are horrid at being secretive. And I know you like to wander around at night when it comes to _him_." Was Greyson's behavior really that obvious? He'd have to reevaluate some things. Though it did strike him as funny that Draco claimed Harry and his friends were obvious, when Draco went around bragging about secretly giving Greyson his presents. Better not mention that part. Time to cover for Harry, just like old times.

"I promise I'll explain, but go back to the common room for now, please," he hissed. Draco merely crossed his arms defiantly and Greyson couldn't contain his exasperated huff as he grabbed Draco's sleeve and started tugging him back towards the commons. "I swear, you can be such a pain sometimes for someone so smart."

Draco was so silent on their way back to the dungeons Greyson was about to ask if he was okay when he finally spoke up. "I am not," he pouted. Were his cheeks a little pink? Perhaps he wasn't feeling well. "Besides, you shouldn't be out either. Filch could catch you and that wouldn't bode well for our house."

"I've been keeping tabs on Filch's patterns the past week. I'll be fine," Greyson retorted, not worried a bit. There had been some close calls the first few days but since then he had noticed some patterns and had a plan and a few backup just in case.

"You're a Slytherin. I need to make sure you'll be fine. I don't want our house losing points because you're sneaking around with those Gryffindors," Draco argued.

Greyson opened his mouth to reply just as he ran into a warm and grungy bag of bones a hallway away from the dungeon entrance. He should have spent a few more days making sure of the patrol routes. "My, my, now what do we have here?" Filch's nasally voice always made a chill run up his spine. "Looks like a couple of first years."

He shook off his momentary surprise before his emergency plan (that he now needed to add Draco to!) quickly rushed back to him and he spit out, "I wasn't feeling well so... D-Draco wanted to help me to the nurse. I told him I'm okay so we were heading back to bed to be good, rule-abiding students."

"...Right," Draco quickly followed with, after just a second's hesitation. Greyson could hug him.

"Well, we'll see what McGonagall has to say about that," Filch sneered, the corners of his pallid face upturned and revealing hints of yellowing teeth. Greyson bit back a disgusted groan and hoped that with them distracting Filch that Harry and Hermione would be able to handle Norbert without any hiccups.

They made the walk to McGonagall's office and Greyson just felt the stone in the bottom of his stomach grow. "Professor!" Filch called out gleefully, "Got a couple of first years out of bed."

McGonagall looked up from her desk and the only tell of surprise on her face was the quick raising of her eyebrows before smoothing out to her normal stern look. "Malfoy, Potter," she greeted coolly. "What are you boys doing out of bed?"

"I was having trouble sleeping because I wasn't feeling well, Professor," Greyson murmured. He tried to push back the guilt churning in his chest. Lying to McGonagall felt wrong. He saw her lips tighten in concern, her normally hard to read face relaxing some. The guilt was crawling up his throat and settling there, and it took all his focus to keep his face calm.

"And I was following him to help him to the nurse. The last thing we need is him passing out in the hallways," Draco started, only to be silenced by Professor McGonnagal holding up a wrinkled and dainty hand that still commanded obedience.

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy, there is no excuse for you two to be wandering the halls without having told your house prefect," she reprimanded. "Especially if you are not feeling well, Mr. Potter. Students are not to be going anywhere without someone of a higher rank knowing. It is a safety procedure that you should both know by now. If something had happened to you two, no one would have known where you had gone or where to look for you both. This is a warning. Since you're not feeling well, I won't wake Professor Snape to deal a harsher punishment. Take care in the future."

"Yes, professor. I apologize," Greyson made sure to bow perfectly, relief soothing some of the guilt. They both turned to leave… just as Filch came back in the room with Harry and Hermione.

"More students, and from my own house," Professor McGonagall sighed in disbelief, looking at them. "Now what were you two doing out of bed?" Harry and Hermione didn't speak up and were quite unsure of what to say. Greyson didn't miss Draco's smirk at them getting in trouble.

"We were out," Harry started.

"I know that, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said. "But what I want to know is why you and Ms. Granger were wandering the halls?" Neither Hermione or Harry spoke up this time either, just staring at each other miserably. What had happened to the cloak? Had Filch taken it? Dammit, he had told them to make up excuses for if they were caught. Did they pay attention _at all _when he talked? "Fine, you can each lose 50 points."

"Fifty?" Harry repeated, distressed. "Professor-"

"Well, then why don't you tell me why all four of you were out of your beds at this hour, and Mr. Greyson, don't tell me you weren't feeling well unless you say it with total honesty," Professor McGonagall spoke shortly.

"Well, you see, professor..." Harry started, trying to come up with something. All Greyson wanted to do was slam his hand into his forehead about fifty times. They were good. They were in the clear. McGonagall was going to let them slide for being out of bed with minimal punishments. "We were in the Astrology tower... and..."

"And what?" she asked, patience obviously wearing thin over this whole charade. His brother's mouth opened and closed a few times and Greyson could swear the expression on McGonagall's face was starting to chill the room. "Detention. All of you have detention. I will let you know when and where after class. Now, go to bed." All their shoulders fell in unison and Filch's chuckle only made it worse. Hopefully this hadn't made McGonagall too upset with him. He would fix this. He'd lost some of her trust, but she was one of the few people he liked that actually liked him back. He wasn't ready to lose that yet, so… He'd fix it... somehow...


End file.
